The Purple Elephant
by SensuallyPassionate
Summary: Phoebe and Gerald have been going strong for going on 4 yrs now. Senior year is almost completed and college is on the horizon. With a single event that happened a year prior exposing the harsh realities of life, a possible future between the two is uncertain. With Gerald's ex back in the picture, will Gerald choose her, or a lifetime of happiness with his first love- Phoebe?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I get goosebumps coming back to this section after almost four years. I feel old at the new change of writers and genre of stories. However, I am in LOVE with Hey Arnold and always will be. I am rather disappointed with the lack of Gerald and Phoebe fiction and I tend to change that. I LOVE me some Helga and Arnold but I want to touch on Gerald and Phoebe for a little while. Hope you all enjoy my dark, twisted fantasies. **

**Warning: For MATURE audiences ONLY. Strong language, racial stigmatizing, sexuality, and graphic scenes to ensue. All characters belong to their respective owners and are used under the Fair Use Act for literary and creative purposes. No copyright intended. **

**Phoebe**

I giggled as he slid a warm hand along the smooth texture of my thigh, purring into my ear as he gently nipped at my earlobe. He was careful not to snag on the onyx pearl studs he had given me for Valentine's Day this past year. One of his favorite 'Jay-Z' songs was playing from his latest album, 'The Throne', in the background so I politely suggested something a bit less…aggressive to set the mood he was trying to get me into. Hearing suggestive lyrics and racial epitaphs can get a girl sexually aroused so much. He handed me the remote to his sound system with a small grin, never once stopping his pursuit of getting me down upon the makeshift 'bed' he had created with a concoction of assorted comforters, pillows, and sheets. I smiled. Gerald was never the most romantic guy I have ever dated, but he sure was the most creative. Every other guy would have taken the cliché route of dinner, movie, and maybe a light stroll along the beaches of Hillwood. No, not Gerald. My Gerald. Though our romance is in secret and our connection is very limited to only social networking sites and email- he would have trouble paying his cell-phone bill from time to time while my family refuses to allow me to even have one- the spontaneity of our relationship was always consistent and fresh. Even though Gerald worked lousy hours at the local supermarket and earned less than minimum wage, he would never hesitate to spend every dime within in paycheck on me. It was never much, maybe seventy-five here or a hundred there; but it did not matter. Gerald made what he had work to keep a smile on my face; and I loved him more and more each day for it. Tonight was 'Romance in Japan'. Taking in my Japanese heritage and the love I have for my culture, Gerald took it upon himself to redecorate his room with koi fish, makeshift cherry blossoms made of pink and fuchsia construction paper with heavily applied school glue, miniature bonsai trees, sushi, and green-tea. I was a bit weary and hesitant to come over when he had instant messaged me to come over to his room for a surprise. The last surprise he had planned for me did not fair over as well as we both hoped; his parents bursting in after hearing the small love taps against the wall from his headboard and me having to run outside in fear of being chased by his sister in nothing but his basketball shorts and my bra. I even forgot my glasses that night so I walked home blind as a bat. This time, however, things were going better than expected. I remembered telling Gerald one time during a casual conversation that I missed going to Japan this year because my little sister was sick and how it saddened me. I loved going to Kyo during the fall and winter months because of the beautiful natured scenery and the cool nip of mountain air. I was floored upon entering Gerald's bedroom to become greeted with so many elements of my heritage that I immediately started tearing up. He had told me since I could not go to Japan this year, Japan would come to me. I embraced him in a joyous hug as he placed a small yet passionate kiss upon my lightly glossed lips. Gerald was nowhere close to the perfect man, but he sure was perfect for me.

I switched from Jay-Z to another one of his favorite artists: Drake. His favorite song, and ironically mine, "Brand New" began to gracefully whist from the subwoofers upon his windowsill and into the medium-sized bedroom; the vibrations of the bass massaging my inner-thighs only making me even more of a devilish minx. I was now definitely in the mood. I gently pushed Gerald against the makeshift tatami mat he called a pallet and straddled him, removing my blue sweater and exposing a white, sheer lace bra. I unclasped my high pony-tail and allowed my raven tendrils to frame my face and fall upon the valleys of my breasts. Gerald was smiling, eyes half-lidded as his hands reached behind the cloak of night to unhook my bra. He always struggled with the damned thing and I never understood why boys had the hardest times undoing bra straps. I watched his brow furrow in frustration as a light layer of sweat began to form atop of his forehead. I chuckled and aided him in undressing me. Then he as I returned to favor. It was close to midnight when I had looked at the clock above his dresser last. He had kissed me one last time before placing his hands upon my hips, taking off my glasses and setting them beside us. I always grew bashful when I was nude in front of Gerald but he always, always, made sure I was comfortable before he indulged in his own pleasures. He would whisper sweet, heart-felt truths into my ear to ease some of the embarrassment and place feather-like kisses on every inch of my body to make me feel special, wanted. Though this would not be the first time Gerald and I grew intimate, I was still new. But Gerald was patient, understanding. He allowed me all the time I needed before he began his rhythm. And my…what a great rhythm indeed.

I looked at the clock as it read a quarter past nine. I was a bit groggy and confused. I glanced around and saw that I was not in my bed or in my room, but on the floor wrapped in a large dark blue comforter in Gerald's bedroom. My clothes were sprawled out all over the place and the sushi Gerald and I had for dinner the evening before was sitting against one of his chairs next to some cold green tea. I began to panic.

_How could I have been so stupid!? My parents are going to kill me!_

I scurried off the floor, almost tripping over the various comforters Gerald had laid out to make the wooden floorboards of his bedroom more comfortable. Before I could put on my panties, I watched his bedroom door slowly swing open. I screamed and accidentally tripped over the burgundy ottoman Gerald had resting at the foot of his bed, landing in a pile of month old laundry. My heart was pounding so hard and fast into my ears that I almost didn't have the chance to register the loud cackling sounds of my boyfriend. I let out a small sigh of relief.

"GERALD!"

"You alright, Phoebe?" he said in between small laughs, attempting to help me up. He was dressed in his signature black and red Michael Jordan basketball shorts, white tube socks, and a white tank and smelled of water, Dial soap and Michael Kors cologne. "I didn't mean to startle you, but it was funny seeing you fall."

I shot him a snide glance before grabbing his helping hand as I rose to my feet. "I thought it was Timberly." I used one of Gerald's least soiled T-shirts to shield my nude body. I couldn't help but notice as his smiled curled into somewhat of a condescending smirk. "What?"

"Even after four years of dating and almost a year of us having sex, you still are ashamed to be naked in front of me."

I blushed, thanking Kami that I had my disheveled hair to veil the sudden hue in my cheeks. "I am not ashamed!"

He folded his arms. "Yeah, ok."

"I'm not!" I shot back defensively, dropping his T-shirt. I stood bare for about five seconds before I reached to pick it back up, shrieking. Gerald, however, wouldn't let me and in a single motion, swooped me in his arms and threw me against his bed. Before I could even say a word, his lips crashed against mine, his hard, toned body meshing perfectly against my taut form; his hands beginning to roam my body as he positioned himself in between my legs. "Gerald!"

"Yes?" he answered absentmindedly, attacking the crevice of my neck, biting. "Hm?"

"I have to go." I squirmed. "My parents are going to be furious!"

"It's already taken care of, love." Small suckling commenced upon my neck and I could feel him begin to shed himself of his lounge wear. "I texted Arnold last night to tell Helga to let your folks know you would be sleeping over her house and to expect later today."

I gasped, surprised. Did he plan to sleep with me? "You did what!?"

He stopped, eyeing me. "What's the problem?"

"So you just had planned on the night going your way, huh?"

His eyes grew wide. "What are you talking about, Phoebe?"

"You expected to sleep with me?" I could feel myself becoming emotional. I don't know why but it bothered me when Gerald did that. It was a primary reason we broke up the first time back freshman year of high school. He was ready for intimacy, I was not. He had the audacity to call and tell Arnold he was going to 'hit it' that night when I thought it would be a simple romantic evening. Though Gerald could be a complete gentleman when he wanted to be, he could be a real jerk. "How could you!?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Phoebe!" he grabbed my chin and guided me to look him in the eye. I resisted but he was much stronger than I. "It wasn't even like that. I didn't expect anything to happen but I didn't doubt the possibility that it would." He paused to kiss me. "You know I think much more highly of you than a piece of ass."

"I guess…" That set him off.

"You guess?" He reiterated, this time getting from on top of me and putting his tank back on. "Really, Phoebe? Are we still on this?"

By ''this", he was referring to his somewhat affair with an ex of his, Ariel. Ariel was everything I wish I could be; confident, independent, poised, strong-willed, attitude, everything. She possessed every trait I wish I had as a woman and I could see why Gerald gravitated towards her the way he did during our break. We had taken a break about a year ago because my parents had 'officially' found out about my relationship with Gerald. They thought we were just friends and I had a mere crush on him and though they did not even approve of that, they allowed it because it proved to be harmless. One summer evening, my father was coming back from work and instead of pulling into the garage with his black Mercedes, he carpooled with a colleague of his. I didn't recognize the Audi that pulled up in front of our home so thought nothing of it as I allowed Gerald to tongue me down in front of my father. It wasn't until I heard him yell out profanities in Japanese that I knew it was him. By then, Gerald was already racing down the street and I was being pulled into the house by my hair. A screaming match between my father and Mr. Johanssen occurred moments later. Apparently my father had called Gerald's to tell him to tell his son to keep away from me. Mr. Johanssen did not take well to my father calling him in such a brash tone and calling Gerald a slur of racially derogatory names and found himself in front of my house with Gerald's brother, Jaime-O, ready to fight. Gerald came to diffuse the situation but I watched from my bedroom window in tears as my mother, father, and my beloved created a spectacle for the entire block to see. My father and Mr. Johanssen did not fist-fight, but they shared from words with one another. The following day, Gerald and I got into our own altercation because he felt as if I did not stick up for him and I sat by and watched my family degrade his own. I tried to defend my position and get Gerald to realize the difficult predicament I was in, but he had a valid point; and as much as I tried to ignore my own faults, he was right that I should have defended him. I should have went down stairs and stood my ground against my father I should have professed my undying love for Gerald. I should have done a lot of things differently. It was then when Gerald said he just wanted to 'muck' around with me and that he really didn't love me. I didn't want to cry in front of him so I suggested we take a break and ran off. It wasn't until a few days later that Helga had told me that Arnold saw Gerald getting cozy with some transfer student from Brooklyn; some black girl, Ariel.

"Gerald…"

"You just won't let it go, will you?"

"I can!" I stopped to collect my thoughts, inching slowly towards his irritated form. "I just…"

"I told you I said that out of anger, Phoebe. Damn!" He gently pushed me away as he made his way to the door, putting on his house slippers. "I'm going to go make me some cereal."

"Gerald, can we please talk?"

"About what?" he turned around to face me. "About that fact that you just can't seem to move past one simple slip up I did but seem to forget all of yours?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Phoebe." He breathed in a deep breath, running a single hand through the coiled, curled of his freshly cut hair. Gerald outgrew the hi-top fade back in middle-school and settled for a very short, cute, curly afro. It suited him well. "You seem to forget how you damaged our relationship, but yet remember the ONE TIME I did something out of line."

"What did you want me to do, Gerald!?" I screamed, completely angry. I hated when we would argue about this. Almost every other week we would argue about the purple elephant in the room: race. "I can't control my father."

"So you stand by and watch him call me a filthy Nig- "

"Don't you dare say that!" I choked. I got out of the bed; nudity damned to hell, and went up to face Gerald. Though he never blamed me for any of it, it was clear how he felt about the situation. We remained on 'break' for over a year. It was Arnold's doing that got us back together. He had tricked Gerald into coming over for a movie night to watch 'Scarface' and Helga was in on the act. Helga invited me over Arnold's with the same lie and once we were face-to-face for the first time in over a year, all those submerged emotions surfaced. We got back together that night but we both secretly knew it would never be the same. Our relationship would either grow stronger or wither away because of what happened that night; and right now, it was not looking so good. "You know I don't think of you like that."

"Your family does. Your father thinks I am some subhuman alien and your mother still thinks we are still in the Jim Crow era!"

I sighed, almost coming to tears. I hated conflict and I hated arguing with Gerald. "…I'm sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't fix us, Phoebe. I can't even go over your house!"

"And me sneaking into your bedroom window every night like we're thirteen again is better!?" I retorted. The only reason last night was any different was because Gerald's parents had gone to the Bahamas for the weekend for a second honey moon, Jaime-O was away at college working on his Masters, and Gerald had paid Timberly fifty dollars to keep her mouth shut. "Real classy way to seduce a lady."

"You were invited over my home once upon a time, Phoebe." Gerald's voice grew harsh, serious. "It wasn't until that night when my father almost went to jail for assault and battery that you were banned from stepping foot over here."

"Your mother admitted she hates me!"

"Because of that night, Phoebe!" Gerald roared. I stepped back a little and met the hardened gaze the wooden floorboards. I began to cry. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were; before the invisible blinders were lifted from our eyes and exposed the true horrors of racism. I wanted Gerald to be happy again. I knew he loved me, I knew he wanted to marry me, but I also knew the fact that my family would never accept him bothered him something serious; and I hated how I had no idea how to fix it. We were graduating soon and although Gerald was offered a full-scholarship to play basketball in California, he was considering options in Boston…since I accepted my admissions to Harvard. He was sacrificing so much to be with me that he was almost giving up himself…his happiness. How could I do something like that to someone I loved more than life itself?

I watched Gerald punch a nearby wall, earning a small squeak of fear from me, and the pattering of feet running down the hall from Timberly. He sighed lowly, turning away from me and heading to the hallway. "I will take you home once you get dressed. I have things to do today."

"Ooooohhh!" Timberly yelled, standing in front of Gerald's doorway. "You punched Mama and Daddy's wall. I'm gonna tell!"

"Timberly, shut the hell up!" he barked, shoving past her and down the stairs to the kitchen.

I stood silent, gazing at Timberly as she eyed me like a venomous snake about to devour an unsuspecting field mouse. She sucked in her teeth. "I liked Ariel, better; and put some clothes on. This is not some brothel."


	2. Chapter 2

**Gerald**

"Orange soda, Gerald?"

I nodded, Arnold throwing me the cool can. I quickly opened it and mixed it in with a half-cup of Vodka and a little cranberry juice. I took a well-deserved sip, grinning. "Nice. You gotta, try this man."

Arnold smiled. "Oh yeah? Well, I would once we turn twenty-one and I get accustomed to the bitter taste of alcohol."

"You are missing out, man." I took another sip. More like a gulp actually. "Want some, Eugene?"

"Golly gee guys, thank you but I will stick to my cream soda over here."

I watched Harold roll his eyes as he shoved Eugene into a neighboring locker, sipping his own concoction of orange soda, grape soda and Patron. "Don't be such a pansy, pansy."

Eugene began to slowly rub his arm to sooth the sudden pain, taking out some sort of tube of prescription strength ointment from the front pocket of his backpack to rub on bruised patch of skin. We all watched in disgust as Eugene happily squeezed a hearty amount of clear gel into his hands and massaged himself a little but too well for my taste. "I second Harold on that one, Eugene." I took another sip of liquor. "And what's with the ointment?"

"Yeah!" Harold pushed Eugene again, this time making him fall to the cool, damp concrete floor and loose the towel wrapped around his waist. There was so much laughter that we could barely hear Eugene shrieking. "Eugene, stop being such a wuss."

"I'm not…" he sniffed, wrapping his forgotten towel around his waist again. "I just don't like to be pushed as all. And the ointment helps stop any bruising from any accidents I may have throughout the day. My mother had the doctor specially prescribe it for me." He finished with a small smile.

The rest of us just laughed. "Eugene, I wouldn't say that out loud. No one here needs to know how you still have your mommy making your doctor's appointments."

"Yeah, Eugene. We are all men here. Better let your testicles drop sooner or later before someone mistakes it for a vagina."

"You tell'em, Sid."

"Now, Now." Arnold interrupted, simmering the fit of laughter. "Let's all stop picking on Eugene. I'm sure he and his mother have a very close knit relationship that explains why she is making his doctor's appointments at the age of eighteen."

"Thank you, Arnold!" Eugene said with a smile, cheerfully putting on more of that disgusting looking ointment on his legs and calves. I turned away; I did not want to see any male rub anything on any part of his body. "And yes, my mother and I are very close. She even knits those fancy sweaters you all compliment me on so much. I can get her to make you all one in you guy's sizes if you would like."

Arnold scoffed, trying to hold back a laugh. His good conscience was telling him to not make fun of the weak and feeble-minded. "Uh, Eugene I don't think the guys are actually…complimenting you on your sweaters."

"Those rainbow colored tarps you call sweaters your mother made you!?" Stinky hollered. "No wonder you get beat on by Wolfgang every morning. Those colors would blind me, I reckon!"

More laughter. I took another sip of my drink before I added more liquor into my cup. I needed to get a little buzzed before I met with Phoebe. "Aye, guys, let's lay off Eugene. Class starts in less than fifteen minutes and we were supposed to be dressed and out this locker room five minutes ago."

Arnold looked at his watch before rushing to get in a quick five-minute shower, a few of the guys following him. Eugene tried to hug me as a 'thank you' and offered to give me one of the signed _Rats _soundtracks he had stashed away in his backpack. I respectfully declined and told him if he ever tried touched me again, I would hurt him. Curly, Sid, and I downed the rest of our drinks and continued to get dressed. The guys and I always had our 'Tipsy Tuesdays' in the boy's locker room right after gym every week. We could come to chill, drink a bit, and crack jokes on Eugene for always sitting out of gym because of a freak accident he had been involved in the day before. This week it was a baking accident. Apparently Eugene was trying to bake snickerdoodles for a church bake sale and somehow his oven caught on fire. It would explain the red peeling on his elbows and ankles but me and the guys tried not to look too hard. We got hints Eugene was a bit…flamboyant. No straight man I know would purposely walk around with socks and sandals and a leotard. I had no problem with whatever Eugene's sexuality was, as long as he kept it and his freak accidents to himself.

"Hey Gerald?" I looked up Sid, breaking my thoughts. I was a bit out of it today, and not because the liquor.

"Yeah?"

"Stinky just texted me to tell you that Phoebe is outside the locker room looking for you. He would have texted you himself but your phone is off."

Damn. "Thanks."

Phoebe and I have not spoken since the weekend and it was by my initiation. I felt that if I spoke to her beforehand, I would say and do something I would most definitely regret in the morning. After our blowout Sunday, I ate some Cap'n crunch and waited for her to get dressed. Timberly, as usual, was talking about how she was going to tell Mama and Daddy about me punching a wall but I paid her another fifty to keep her mouth shut and herself away from me the entire day while I cleared my head. Once she had that crisp bill in her hand, she skipped away. Phoebe quietly came down the steps seconds later, eyes glued on anything but mine. She spoke of something softly but I was not in the mood for conversation. I grabbed my car keys from the coupon drawer next to the sink, my hooded sweatshirt from the back of my chair and told her to come on so I could take her home. I entire car ride was completely silent, almost deathly. I didn't turn on the radio or hook up my sound system to my mp3 player. I just wanted to think. I arrived at her home in about fifteen minutes due to the traffic, or lack thereof. Since it was a Sunday, things were rather slow moving. She tried to kiss me but I told her I didn't want to say anything that would hurt her feeling and to just get out my car. She looked stunned, more hurt and broken than anything but nodded. I drove off shortly after I watched her make it safely into her house and drove round Hillwood for a few hours burning gas, killing time, and collecting my thoughts. Phoebe had attempted to Instant Message me these past two days but I never responded. I just needed my space.

Finishing my cup, another cup, and a quarter bottle of tequila, I got up to get dressed. I was feeling that familiar feeling I needed begin to kick in as my blood grew warm. I needed all the help I could get right now as I faced Phoebe. Exiting the locker room, I saw her. She stood near the water fountain across from the tiled entrance, taking a small drink. She had her hair down today so it hide her face a little and wore some jeans, a white blouse, and a yellow Ralph Lauren cardigan. She pushed up her glasses when she saw me, her cheeks growing rosy as she grew nervous. I sighed.

"Hi." She said meekly.

"Hey, Phoebe." I looked at my watch and saw I had less than five minutes for class. I would have ignored it and taken an extra fifteen minutes to talk to Phoebe, but my next class was business calculus and I needed to desperately pass that class with a 'C' or better. "Look, I hate to cut this short but I have business calculus in a few so…"

"I already took care of it." She interrupted lowly, beginning to twiddle her thumbs and play with a few locks of her hair. "I told your teacher you would be a little late because of some scholarship application the principal needs you to do."

"You abused your office authority to talk to me?" I said, a little surprised. If there was anyone that was more perfect that my best friend, Arnold, it was Phoebe. She excelled academically, had perfect attendance, won almost every award imaginable, and was the star pupil in all of her classes. She attained a small part-time position in the school's office to help pass some of her spare time. Phoebe was on an accelerated track to graduate and could have been a sophomore in college by the Spring of next year; but with her not wanting to leave Helga and her parents feeling she was not mentally or emotionally ready for college life, she accepted the offer to be an office aide and earn some spare pocket change. "Wow…"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"That's not like you, Phoebe. You are so…by the book."

"Well…ignoring me for two days left me with no other choice."

I swallowed hard. Eighth period bell rang and I grabbed Phoebe and led her outside to the cafeteria. Our high school had lots of extra tax dollars to spend so our school's cosmetic makeup could rival a few universities out East. I led her past the endless array of tables to the patio. I enjoyed coming out here to sit, think, and get a little studying done from time to time. The view of the small pond with the annoying geese that had a vendetta against me could be strangely soothing when I needed it most. It was also the quietest place on campus. Only upper-classmen were allowed on the patio and very seldom did we come out here to use that privledge.

"Phoebe…"

"Why did you not return any of my messages?"

"I needed space, Phoebe." I said flatly, earning a hurtful look. I continued. "I didn't want to say the wrong things to you."

"So you ignore me for two days straight instead of being a mature adult and talking out our problems?"

I scoffed. "This is not my problem, Phoebe. It's yours."

She paused for a moment, turning away from me. "Is this about Ariel coming back to Hillwood?"

She caught me off guard. Ariel was…back? Since when? "Ariel?"

She turned to face me, this time with a face full of tears. I had a strong urge to drop my backpack and hold her in my arms, but I resisted. I could tell this was difficult on Phoebe but it was even harder on me. I would give my life for this woman but she can't even claim me as her boyfriend to her folks. That hurt more than anything. I have had a girl's family not like me before; an ex of mine, Tiffany, being an example. Her parents did not like me because I was too...outspoken. I admit, I maybe should not have told Mrs. Cooper her meatloaf was dry as sandpaper and I maybe should have kept the fact that Tiffany was the worst kisser I have ever experienced to myself; but at least her parents had a legitimate reason to dislike me. The Heyerdahl's only dislike me because of the color of my skin. I have been nothing but the perfect gentleman to Phoebe. She was my grade school and middle school crush. I always fawned after her but never had the balls to go after her; and when I did, it was instant magic. It was her folks that kept getting in the way, making excuses as to why we could not hang out or why I could not come over their home as much as I would have liked. I should have known something was up when I noticed Mrs. Heyerdahl put away all the good china and lock all her expensive French décor in their safe. Or when Mr. Heyerdahl made some snide comment one evening while we were out on my own expense that the restaurant we were at did not take food stamps as valid payment. Phoebe and I were young then, naïve. Now, not so much.

"Phoebe…"

"You still have feelings for her, don't you Gerald?"

"I had no idea she was even back into town!" I defended myself. "This is the first time I am hearing about her being back in Hilwood." And it was. Ariel and I broke up for two reasons: she was moving back to Brooklyn and Phoebe and I reconciled our differences. If Phoebe and I had not talked things out that night at Arnold's and Ariel had not moved back to Brooklyn…I honestly don't know if I would be standing here with Phoebe. I love them both…truly.

"You did not answer my question."

I wanted to play dumb. "Which was?"

"Do you still have feelings for Ariel?"

I grew quiet, carefully choosing the words I wanted to say. Phoebe knew in her heart of hearts that Ariel was her only competition for my heart, and knew that the only thing keeping our relationship stagnant was the issue of the purple elephant neither of us wanted to address. I sighed, silently swearing. "Phoebe."

"You do, don't you?" she asked lowly, almost inaudible.

"Phoebe…"

"Well?" she finally looked me in the eye, fresh tears beginning to stream down her flushed cheeks as small hands trembled at her sides. I could tell she was having a hard time keeping her composure. She was an inch away from breaking down. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach. I never wanted to hurt the woman I loved so much.

"Yes, I still have feelings for her." There was a long, pregnant pause before either of us spoke. Though Phoebe was scarily quiet, I could feel her weeping. I set my backpack alongside one of the patio tables and embraced my beloved. She began punching my chest with her tiny fists before giving in completely, falling to her knees. I followed and never let her go. I couldn't allow myself to. I felt my heart begin to ache in seeing Phoebe in so much agony. How could I do that to someone I loved more than life itself?

"Phoebe…" I whispered. "Baby, I want to fix us…I want us to be happy again."

She said something almost inaudible from the core of my blazer butt I caught bits and pieces through her crying. "I know you want us happy…but…we can't keep going like this…"

There was a small silence, Phoebe lifting her head from my chest. I tried to get her to face me but she kept turning away from me. She took out a few tissues from a Kleenex travel pack in her pocket, wiping the trails of mascara from her cheeks and under her eyes. She finally looked at me. I kissed her then and there. Seeing her in such a state made me want to kick myself for putting her through this; but I could not keep living in a fantasy. My relationship with Phoebe was on the rocks and we desperately needed to get it back to shore. As much as I loved her with every fiber of my being, I could not help but hate how things were between us. One minute we were as happy as a fat kid in a candy store and the next, we were like this. We could not keep going on like this…I couldn't keep living like this. I was giving not only my heart to this girl but my soul. I needed to be happy again…I deserved it.

I pulled away from her and gazed into her glassy eyes. Her glasses had fell to the bridge of her nose again and I pushed them up with mine, nuzzling her. That earned me a small smile. "What should we do Phoebe?"

"I want you happy…I want us happy, Gerald." She paused again. "I leave that decision entirely up to you."

That caught me off guard. "Wait…what? Say that again?"

"I leave the decision of the precautionary measures that need to be taken to ensure a successful relationship between us in your capable hands. Whatever you decide I will gladly go along with it."

I could tell she was breaking inside but she meant what she had said, whole heartedly. She was out of options and we both only saw one aside from the inevitable alternative unless things were revamped between us. I sighed and swore, this time loud enough for her to hear. I grasped her rickety hands and held them within my strong ones. I kissed her one last time before telling her that I would need time to see what it would be like to be with Ariel for a while before I could completely commit myself to her. I did not say we were necessarily breaking up, but I did tell her it was not a break. She and I would still be together but I would also be talking to Ariel. I watched Phoebe nearly go into cardiac arrest mode as she broke down again, this time with me silently joining her. I never intended to hurt her and I never wanted this to happen; but if I really wanted to give us a fair shot I would have to know what it would have been with Ariel. Ariel was the only woman aside from Phoebe I have been in love with. I have been intimate with a few other women but they were all summer flings. Ariel and Phoebe actually meant something to me; the sex was only a bonus.

I went to class and for the rest of the day, I kept to myself. I ditched basketball practice after school and missed the informational for the debate team. Despite my love for athletics and my numerous scholarships to join various University level teams, I had a passion for oratory. I fell in love with the subject while watching _The Great Debaters_ with Ariel and took it upon myself to look into joining our school's debate team. It went from me going to a small informational to actually joining to team- and I am pretty damn good at it too. It is still a bit undecided but I figured I would declare my major during my undergraduate year as criminal justice and maybe go off onto law school once I complete my Bachelors. Even Arnold could sense something was really bugging me but I told him I would come over later and talk to him about it rather than after school. I just needed to clear my head. So many things I wanted to say but did not know how. Did I really make the right choice? If I loved Phoebe, was dealing with her family enough to make me truly ignore my feelings? Did Ariel even want to see me? Seeing as how even though the breakup was mutual, she knew Phoebe was back into the picture way before she told me about her family moving back to Brooklyn because of her father's promotion to Vice President of some major tax firm. She never expressed it, but I knew she was leaving with a broken heart. I felt like jackass of the year.

I drove around for a little while after school until it got dark. I knew I had no business wasting as much gas as I was but I was not in the mood to go home. My father was going to hound me for going into his stash of spare condoms and my mother was going to bitch about why I had Phoebe in the house. Timberly may or may not have told but it slipped my mind that my father was very meticulous about his property. He was sure to notice a few of his condoms missing and seeing as how I spent all the cash I had on me for the night with Phoebe and the bank was closed for the evening, I had to use the resources I had. I certainly wasn't going in raw dog. The last thing Phoebe and I needed was a pregnancy scare. I decided to grab a quick bite to eat from one of the new drive-in's the new mayor had approved to be built in the area to attract more residents. I am not sure if her plan worked or not but the milkshakes here were off the chain. Then, I saw her…

"Welcome to Sonic may I take your order?"

"A-Ariel?" I stammered, heart racing. I nearly almost ran my car into a pole. I forgot to put it into park. She smiled and skated my way. She looked good. Although she was in a dorky uniform, the red shorts and yellow t-shirt with the company logo on the right pocket looked damn good on her body. Unlike Phoebe, Ariel was curvy. She had thick hips, long legs, and a large chest. She was built like an African goddess and had the persona to match it. She was half Kenyan and half African-American. She was very much into her African culture and I liked that most about her. Although I loved growing up in a diverse neighborhood such as Hilwood, there were never many blacks around. There were a few in and out but never permanent like myself. With Ariel growing up in Brooklyn, she was in a predominately African-American neighborhood and was surrounded by nothing but her culture. Diversity was a wonderful thing, but it was something about having that pride of your own culture embedded within the roots of your neighborhood. "Wow. How are you?"

"Pretty well stranger, how are you?" she flipped her back-length box braids to the side and exposed her signature large, gold hoop earrings. Ariel always worse eccentric earrings and loud clothing. "What brings you this way?"

"A chocolate milkshake actually. The food here is crap but the milkshakes are on point." I laughed. "Want me to order you one? I can wait until you get on break to get them."

"Actually, I just started my shift about ten minutes ago." She pouted.

I frowned. "Damn, well I heard you were back at Hilwood."

Her smile widened. "Yes, I am. How did you know? I haven't seen you all day." She paused. "I was looking for you."

"Pho…I mean a friend told me." I had to catch myself. I knew saying Phoebe's name would only sour the mood. "What brings you back?"

"Mom and Dad are going through a divorce. Mom found out my dad was having an affair with this white woman from Sweden so she went berserk. Instead of slicing my father with a box cutter like she originally planned, she packed up and took me and my sister, Stephanie, back here. She likes it better here than Brooklyn anyway; less noise and chaos."

I gulped. I forgot how crazy her mother could be. The woman threated to cut my little Johanssen off if I ever broke Ariel's heart. "Wow."

She giggled, leaning on the edge of my car and peeking into the window. I got a whiff of her perfume and instantly felt my heart flutter. She smelled heavenly; apricots and shea-butter. "What are you doing later tonight?"

"Nothing." I paused to look at my watch and saw it was only a quarter past six. "When do you get off?"

"Around 9-9:30." She leaned in further into my car, our faces practically touching. I gazed into her dark-brown eyes and licked my lips. She had a lustful look that made me want to kiss her then and there; but I thought of Phoebe. I pulled back, coughing nervously.

"What did you have in mind?"

"My mom is cooking tonight. Mac and cheese, collard green, turkey neck, and fried chicken with peach cobbler for dessert. I know you want you a plate."

My stomach began to growl. I haven't had a meal like that since Easter. My mother only made soul food on special occasions. "Alright, what time?"

"Ten, your folks are welcome to come by as well. My mom said if I saw you to invite you over."

My heart sunk a bit. "Oh…"

She must have noticed because she gave small chuckle before she turned my face towards hers and planted a small kiss on my lips. I took the initiative to deepen it and allowed our tongues to engage in an epic battle of dominance. She only pulled away when her supervisor radioed her to get back to work and take some orders before they became back up.

"I have to go."

I nodded. "Ten. I will be there."

"Great." She began to skate away before she stopped and called out to be. I looked at her, almost lovingly. "I wanted you to come by to dinner too. It was my idea anyway."

I smiled and waved to her as she disappeared into a sea of cars. I drove home to let my family know about Ariel's invitation and the mood in the house shifted. I was no longer being interrogated about the three missing condoms and my mother stopped cursing like a sailor. They suddenly became somewhat…proud of me and got ready to go over the Mason's home for dinner. At first I was excited but then I became sick. All I could think about was Phoebe. What was I getting myself into?

**A/N: Whew. I'm tired. I decided to update twice because I will be taking a small leave for a few days AND…I love this story so much. I was no expecting reviews already and I am grateful and thankful. I do this as a hobby but as well as a passion and if I have the chance to share my passion with a few people, it all becomes worth it. To answer the question of a reviewer, yes Phoebe is half Japanese-American and half White. Her mother is from Kentucky and her father from Kyo, Japan. My writing is not to offend anyone but to touch a forbidden subject that affects our lives daily. Now before anyone gets their undies un a bunch, I am an African-American and this was not to offend anyone of my ethnic group or of any other. I know how sensitive can be. As a 6 year veteran on this site I have had my share of infractions because some people are too easily offended. So please, don't take anything personal. Until next time my kittens.**

**-SensuallyPassionate**


	3. Chapter 3

**Phoebe**

"And you agreed to this buffoonery?"

I nodded, still watching Helga stomp angrily around her room as I snacked on a few cucumber sandwiches her mother had made for us. If I was not mistaken, there was a hint of liquor mixed in with the strawberry yogurt. "Is that…wrong of me, Helga? I did give him the option of choosing."

"Choosing, Phoebes? Choosing to sleep around with that large-breasted bimbo, Ariel isn't exactly ,screaming 'I'm taken'." She huffed, folding her arms. She remained pacing and was beginning to ruin her carpet. The Pataki's recently had expensive new carpet installed in all of the rooms but Helga's; she received the low-budget, poor quality carpet from a discount dealer in the rough part of town that could easily be ruined in less than a year. Though the color was a very vibrant and eye-catching coral, it was already starting to falter; Helga's pacing not helping in the slightest.

"Um, Helga, your carpet is beginning to…"

"Who cares about this lousy carpet, Phoebes!" She stopped pacing and lunged towards me, startling me. I held the cucumber sandwich I had in my mouth with a tight grip. "You are setting yourself up for heartbreak, for pete sake! Crimeny!"

"Helga…"

"That cheap, skunk bag needs to pay; starting with tonight at Rhonda Wellington-Lloyds little soirée." Helga cackled, scaring me. She disappeared into her closet and began muttering more obscenities. I began to grow nervous. Whenever Helga had some devious plan up her sleeve, it always ended horribly. Last time she called me at four in the morning to bail her out of jail for breaking and entering into some poor girl's home because she had 'kissed' Arnold during a school play and was 'way too into it'. I called Arnold and he and I both rode with Gerald to the station to pay Helga's fees and get her home before her father found out. "What a doofus, what an imbecile, such a misogynistic weasel I'd like to pumble with ol' Betsey!"

"Um…Helga?" I whispered. She screamed.

"What!?"

"Gerald is still my boyfriend so I would gladly appreciate it if you could not talk about him in such a manner."

She flipped me the bird and kept digging in her closet for whatever it was she was looking for. I sighed and continued eating the delicious cucumber sandwiches Mrs. Pataki had prepared. I reached for my glass of water to wash them down and saw Helga beginning to strip down to her undergarments. I looked away, coughing. "Helga, do you need me to step out while you change clothes?"

"Phoebes, we been best friends forever." She unzipped her blue jeans and shed herself of her pink and yellow sweater, letting them pool to a puddle of fabric at her feet before she violently kicked them into a nearby corner. "I am sure we are at the stage of our friendship where we can see each other's junk."

She took out this very cute- yet provocative- asymmetrical black dress. It was one sleeved, very form-fitting, and had a deep V-neck plunge with a sheer, metallic material that covered the gap. She threw the metal hanger somewhere across the room and struggled in putting on the dress. She hopped over to ask me to help her zip it and after about five minutes of pulling, stretching, and oiling the zipper with body oil, Helga was in her little number for Rhonda's party. Though it was much too revealing for my taste, I had to admit Helga looked stunning. It sat just below her butt, hugged her flawless, toned body in every angle, and made her B-cups look two sizes bigger.

"Wow, Helga, you look…amazing."

"You better know it, Phoebes." She sashayed over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her closet door and stroke a few poses. She had undone the messy ponytail she wore all day and allowed her hair to cascade down her back for good measure. With a little red lipstick, some heels, and some eye-shadow, Helga would have resembled a movie star. "I look damn good."

"Where did you get the dress, Helga? I do not remember us going out and buying it."

"An aunt who I forget her name gave it to me for Christmas on year. She is a crack addict whore so it explains why the dress is so slutty. What a skeezeball."

I sighed. "Why are you wearing it? You aren't really going to wear that dress to Rhonda's party are you?"

"You're damn right I am, Phoebes and you are wearing something similar." Helga devilishly grinned, pulling out a T-backed red dress with a similar sheer V-neck from her closet. I nearly went into shock. Not only would that dress barely cover my backside, it would expose my breasts! "Helga!"

"Phoebes, this is operation 'Get your man back'."

I slowly began to choke on the remnants of my sandwich. I knew Helga was up to no good when she pulled that damn dress out from the back of her closet. Only creepy, voodoo, witch craft items are back there. If I am not mistaken, I caught a glimpse of a shrine of Arnold's head a few years back but I am hoping that was simply my imagination. I knew I was one of the very few people who knew about Helga's love and…unhealthy obsession over him, but I did not think Helga would take it upon herself to actually worship a mashed potato model of Arnold's oddly shaped head. "Helga, I am not wearing that to Rhonda's party."

"Oh?" she folded her arms, raising a single brow at me in question. "What did you have in mind?"

I looked down at my outfit and back at Helga. "This, of course." I figured my jean shorts with lace stockings and a collared sweater was really cute. I made it a point to remain up to date on the latest fashion trends by subscribing to various issues of teen magazines. Lace was in for the fall as well as thigh-high socks. Gerald was always current and in style; best-dressed in every single one of our classes so I wanted to look the part as well. He switched his moniker red jerseys and sneakers for Blazers, buttons ups, Polo shirts, and leather boat shoes. Since Gerald had a steady job and made his own money, he did not have to rely on his parents' income to support himself or his matured fashion sense. If he was not spending money on the endless array of books from the bookstore that made me happy, he was out at the mall buying name-brand shirts, slacks, cologne, and shoes. Occasionally he would switch back to his signature look- sporting a red hooded sweatshirt or red long-sleeve polo with jeans and some classic Adidas hi-tops- but mostly took pleasure in evolving himself into his own man. Daily, Gerald would resemble one of those GQ models and have almost every female christening their panties with a simple smile. His hair was cut much shorter into a framed, coily fro rather than that atrocity he sported during grade school that made him look straight from the '80's, the facial hair he earned during his pubescent period was shaped finely into a goatee and thin beard, and he discovered the gym and athletics. He and Arnold had matured greatly over the past few years; no longer skinny, immature little boys. No, they were slowly shaping themselves into dapper young men and their growing pockets along with a heightened image of self-perception only furthered their conquest.

I even became somewhat jealous when I noticed other women taking pleasure in watching Gerald prance around like a famed, prized horse. Gerald was always a tad arrogant, the growing attention from the female population only making him even more self-absorbed and egotistic. With him being one of the only African-Americans at our high-school, he was certainly becoming even more of an anomaly with his growing good looks, charm, and increased popularity. Every woman suddenly wanted him, practically throwing themselves and their bodies at Gerald in which direction. Although Gerald was completely committed and faithful to me and our relationship, he did relish in the newfound glory of women. It angered me to an extent but I sat on the sidelines and never muttered a word. I never do…

"Pfft!" I watched helplessly as Helga chucked the rather inappropriate dress in my direction, letting the surprisingly harsh textured piece of fabric she called an outfit hit me in the face. I held it up and took a good look at it. It was really cute but far too…sexy. It would hug my hour glass figure and barely cover my rear. To make it worse, seeing as how my busts are much bigger than Helga's, the sheer part that would expose everything but my nipples would make them stand out even further. It was hard enough buying shirts that did not hug my chest like a fitted glove; the last thing I needed was a dress that did the exact thing I wanted to avoid. "You are wearing it!" she commanded, throwing a pair red of sky-high pumps my way. I dodged them by a second; afraid they were going to hit me in the eye. Helga had terrible aim and it often baffled me how she made it on the softball team last year.

"Helga, you have been terribly mistaken." I set the dress down neatly upon her bed. "I am not stepping foot outside looking like a street walker."

"So you are gonna just lay down and take that man stealing tramp destroying four years of your life together with Gerald?"

"N-N-No, I was not saying that I was simply saying…"

"Phoebes" she interrupted. "I am going to tell you this because you are my best friend. You are too goddamn nice!"

My eyes widened. "E-Excuse me?"

"You are much too nice. You are allowing your boyfriend to belittle yourself into entering an open relationship while some African whore prances all over you. You look like a moron, Phoebes."

I had to be honest with myself; Helga's words cut deep. I knew I was an enabler of undesirable behavior and a bit of a pushover, but I thought that was only with Helga. Helga has been my best friend since we were toddlers. I never had many friends growing up and the few I did have used me for their own personal entertainment. Helga was the one who stood up for me, punching girls in the eyes for making fun of my thick glasses and shoving boy's faces in the sandbox for throwing crayons at me. She told them to leave me alone and that they did. I immediately latched onto Helga and felt the need to help her in any way I could since she helped me. It was not to have a personal bodyguard, though it did have that direct benefit, but because I finally had a real friend. I did not see it as an obligation or tit-for-tat, but because I genuinely wanted to. I admit, over the years Helga had abused that privilege unknowingly one too many times for my pleasure, but it was never spiteful or malicious. Helga was just a very commanding, controlling, bossy person and as her friend I had to accept her with all her faults. I know Helga does not do things purposely, me breaking my leg in fourth grade and having her become my personal assistant for a few weeks showed how much Helga actually does care for me and would go above and beyond for our friendship; but since then, the roles have remained the same. I don't necessarily mind being Helga's unpaid 'lackey', but I did not realize I was like this with everyone…even Gerald. I never was one to get into conflict and I hated confrontation. I would often get anxiety attacks and start to sweat profusely. I just saw myself as more of a pacifist than a complete doormat.

"Really, Helga?" My voice was low, almost inaudible. "Am I really as pathetic as you say I am?"

"Yes, Phoebes. You are a complete doormat, pushover, lap dog, a run-of-the-mill Jeeves that does everything for everyone but herself." I felt Helga's hand touch my shoulder. "You are my friend Phoebes and yeah…maybe I have contributed to this behavior a few times by abusing your kindness but goddammit I can do that, Gerald can't!"

I gave a soft laugh, looking at the frustrated Helga. Though Helga was certainly a lot of things, she sure was a great friend to have. If she would only show this side to everyone else and not threaten to do bodily harm, Helga would have more friends to call on to bail her out of jail at four in the morning than just me. "Helga, I don't mind."

She growled and started her pacing again, this time with much more fury. "You are lying. I know it gets to you. C'mon, you mean to tell me that you are dandy as a wallflower watching your boyfriend canoodle with some African skank while you sip on some watered down punch?"

"Well…"

"The answer is 'NO', Phoebe, No!" she yelled, answering for me. I grew quiet and began thinking. Maybe Helga did have a point. Gerald and I have invested four years of our lives together into our relationship. Was he really willing to throw it all away for a girl he met recently? "Dammit, Phoebe, get mad."

"Mad?"

"Yes, get MAD!"

"But, I'm not…"

"I know you aren't mad, Phoebe but I need for you to get mad." Helga halted her pacing and stood in the middle of the floor, glaring at me like a carnivorous lioness about to maul a baby gazelle. I looked around the room nervously. "I'm mad for you!"

"But you are always angry, Helga."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring me. "If Arnold dared to pull the same stunt Gerald is pulling on you, he would be six feet underground with the rest of 'um."

"But Helga…"

She interrupted again. "Get mad, Phoebe!"

"Helga…"

"Get mad!"

"But Helga…"

"Get ma-"

"Helga!" I screamed, fed up with her not allowing me to finish a single sentence. I took in short, shallow breaths, my heart beginning to race. I rarely ever screamed, especially at Helga. I watched her smirk in satisfaction in getting me worked up. Helga was one of the very few people that knew what buttons to push. She knew I absolutely _hated_ being cut off during a conversation. "Jeez, can I talk now please?"

She shrugged, plopping into one of the multi-colored beanbag chairs she had nestled near her door. Her mother have given them to her as a birthday gift two years ago because they ran out of money from spending their savings on Olga's shindig in Spain. Turns out they were a donation from some hippie client Mr. Pataki had that signed some of his property off as collateral for any debts he may have had with the cellphone company. "No one is stopping you, Phoebes." She paused to reach for her backpack and took out a forgotten apple, taking a rather large disgusting bite "For the record, that's what I wanted to see." There was a small glimpse of repugnance.

"Helga." I composed myself, lowering my voice. "I am not like you. I cannot simply get…angry over trivial things. I know this sounds crazy but if Gerald loves me like he says he does, then…it should not matter what he does with or without Ariel because he will come back to me, right?"

I watched Helga eye me skeptically before shaking her head in disappointment, taking another bite of that unwashed, disgusting apple. "Why are you asking me? You need to answer that question for yourself, Phoebe. If you are genuinely alright in risking going to Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd's fancy party and watching your boyfriend tongue down another woman then I won't press the issue."

"Rhonda invited the entire school so I know she will be there but I doubt they are going…together." I said the last work in a hushed whisper, Helga shaking her head. She bit into her apple one last time before tossing it in the trash bin. "I'm sure of it…"

"Well, you don't sound too certain to me Phoebes." Helga rose to her feet, dusting off the tight-fitting dress and pulling her underwear out of her butt. Helga hated wearing panties but I was the one who persuaded her to keep all of her garments on to avoid another yeast infection. "Look, I'm going to go get ready for Rhonda's party. The dress is there for you to wear if you want."

I watched Helga head down the hall and heard the harsh slam of the bathroom door; Mr. Pataki screaming up the stairs from the foyer to not slam anymore doors around his house, Helga screaming vulgarities. I sat in silence for a while, glancing back and forth at the dress. I knew Helga was right; I was subjecting myself to heartache. Gerald was always known to be a ladies man. Even before he and I made it official that we were going to remain exclusive to each other, he had a few women lined up to preoccupy his time with. I had the biggest crush on him during grade school and always figured myself to be unworthy of someone so…cool. I was quiet, soft-spoken, and a book work that had the audacity to fall for a smooth, suave, confident popular kid like Gerald. I had a few boys take interest in me over the years, but my heart was always set on Gerald Martin Johanssen.

He was everything I had wished I could be and more; even going as far as saying I wanted to be more bronzed. Every summer I would get severe sunburns that would leave me in the house for days, even with high SPF sunscreen. Gerald could frolic and play in the gorgeous light without any penalty. As someone who could become pale as virgin snow, I envied that ability. Gerald was everything I wanted in a man. He was strong, courageous, respectful, well-mannered, funny, sweet, kind, out-spoken, and the list goes on for miles. I always thought I would look at him from afar and admire his beauty silently. Helga knew I had a crush on Gerald but it always went unspoken; similar to my knowledge on her obsession of Arnold. The afternoon of June 3rd in seventh grade was when Gerald had approached me and asked me to the last dance of the school year that we began our tragic Greek romance. We grew closer as acquaintances, then as friends, then, finally, lovers. We mutually understood a relationship between the two of us would not be easy, but it would be well worth the sacrifices. Gerald and I had more than history together; we have love and the unbreakable bond of everlasting friendship. Kami forbid Gerald and I decide to go our separate ways, but it was understood we would always remain friends. Though I could never see Gerald in the platonic light of friendship after everything that was shared between us; the love, the passion, the secrets, the tears, the _sex, _I vowed I would always remain a part of Gerald's heart…even if that meant being a friend. Gerald Martin Johanssen was, is, destined to be my soul mate and as someone that is heavily involved in the art of spirituality, I believe you only find true love once in a life time. Taking one last glance at the dress, I cursed silently before standing to shed my clothes. I was not going to let this woman take the man I am supposed to live my life with; so she could put that in her pipe and smoke it!

Helga and I arrived the Rhonda's party fashionably late and were the last to arrive. We would have made it on time but Helga had a hard time taking my advice on switching her cotton bloomers with a lacy G-string to avoid the showing of a panty line. With the type of dresses we wore, the exposure of even the slightest flaw would be magnified by ten. Rhonda greeted us with warm smiles until the smile morphed into a dumbstruck, floored sneer. She fumed with jealousy as Helga and I walked into her father's mansion in our outfits, heels clacking patiently amongst the marbleized floor of her foyer. She took one look at Helga and I and gave a snide remark about how we looked like hookers, but the expensive kind- escorts I believe was the term she used. She was more surprised at me than Helga and gave me the look-around like a great white circling its bleeding prey. I wore the red dress Helga had given me and the red pumps, exchanged my rectangular glasses for my contacts, and had my usually straight, shoulder-length locks in a bed of waterfall curls. I didn't care for as much makeup as Helga donned, but I did put a little eye-liner on my lower lid, some blush, and a heavy coat of lustrous, red lipstick for dramatic effect. The second person to see us was Lila, then Sheena, then Nadine. Mouths were agape for a few good moments until Helga shoved past them; telling them to close their mouths before bugs fly in.

No one expected tomboy Helga to wear such a provocative little number, but it was never doubtful that she would ever. Me, however, no one, and I mean no one, would have imagined the day Phoebe Heyerdahl retired her glasses and cardigan sweaters for a dress; let alone one that left very little to the imagination. I followed Helga into the living room where the party was in full swing. Our entire school was at the Wellington-Lloyd's and everyone seemed to notice when Helga and I arrived. Helga basked in the newfound attention the men of our school was giving her; a few even going as far as to caress Helga's backside or try and pull her in for a dance. Girls that once ignored Helga and I were suddenly surveying the two of us like hungry vultures in search of their next meal; guys earning erections as we walked through the sea of hormonal teenagers into the mist of the biggest opening bash of the school year. I dottily followed behind Helga until we were approaching where Arnold, Gerald, Stinky, Sid, Harold, and a few other of the guys were posted. They were too busy conversing with each other to notice the attention Helga and I was getting, let alone that we arrived. I felt Helga reach behind her to grab my shaky hand, holding it firmly as we approached Arnold and Gerald. She gave it a firm squeeze, comforting me in a last effort to prepare in seeing him for the first time since he and I 'opened' our relationship three days before.

"Wilikers, Helga G. Pataki, is that you?"

Eyes were now glued on Helga as I watched mouths slowly fall open. I could feel Helga's mischievous grin in front of me as I tried my best to keep myself from shaking. "Hey boys, I was just about to grab some punch from the kitchen." She stopped in front of the crew and gave them a full display of her dress, turning for added effect. "You know; that large room next to this lovely wall you were molesting?"

"Gosh Helga, you look stunning!" Eugene complimented. Helga smiled.

"Yeah, Helga, I never seen you look so…sexy."

"Yeah, I have to agree with Sid on that one, Helga."

Helga flipped back a wave of her hair, thoroughly enjoying the attention she was getting. I think she craved it. "Thanks pink boy."

"Now, Now, Now…" Arnold interrupted, snaking his hand around Helga's slender frame. He planted a small kiss on her cheek. "This is still my _girlfriend_ you all are gazing over."

"Oh, Arnold." She kissed him gently on the lips. "Well, if they can't fawn over me then my best friend, _Phoebe_ will be their eye-candy."

Before I could even register what had happened in between the thirty seconds Helga was being dotted over to the point where Arnold turned into the green-eyed monster, Helga had turned around and pulled me in front of her to be center stage. I could feel my knees quiver as my mouth suddenly turned dry at the sight of Gerald. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened at the view of me in my dress. I wanted to speak but my nerves had me tongue tied. I looked to Helga for backup and she nodded.

"Gee Wiz, Phoebe!"

"Phoebe, red is most certainly your color."

"Wilikers! Phoebe, I reckon you are the bell of the ball at this party. You and Helga sure know how to make an entrance."

"Damn, Phoebes, you look like a sexy Asian housewife." Sid gave out a wolf-whistle, slowly beginning to seductively lick his lips as he crept up towards me. "I'd like to take you home and…"

"Do what?!" Gerald growled, snatching Sid up by his collar and bringing him close to his face. I watched in terror as Sid began mumbling some sort of apology to Gerald before he was roughly let go.

Helga grabbed my hand. "Why are you getting so defensive, hair boy? Phoebe is _single_ last I checked."

Gerald narrowly eyed Helga, shaking off Harold and Stinky who tried to calm him from the incident with Sid. My heart began to pound louder in my ears. This could not have been happening. "She is **not** single, Helga" he turned to face Arnold. "Man, tell your girl to mind her goddamn business."

Before Arnold had a chance to say anything, Helga stepped up to Gerald. "Phoebe is my business you dunce, so if her relationship with you is a part of her, then it is my business." She rolled her eyes and began pulling me to the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, seeing as you wanted to see what it was like to be with your precious African mermaid _Ariel_, Phoebe is free to gallivant and prance all over any man she wants!"

"She wouldn't dare…"

"Try her! Bet you by the end of the night she would have raised a couple of flag poles if you know what I mean."

That outburst earned us quite a few looks and remarks before Helga and I disappeared into the kitchen. I had no time to register what had happened. I did not even get a word in. I just stood over the punch bowl and stared at the watered down pool of red. The strong scent of liquor and strawberry bombarded my senses and made me come down with a sudden migraine. I could not believe I listened to Helga G. Pataki and wore this dress! This would have been avoided if I just kept on my sweater!

"Did you see their faces?" Helga laughed, grabbing a Dixie cup and ladling her some punch, adding a splash of cherry flavored vodka. She took a sip. "Gerald was fuming! HA!"

"Maybe this was not such a good idea, Helga." My voice cracked. I could feel hot tears begin to stream down my face. I did not like this; I did not like this one bit. I hated fighting. I hated fighting with Gerald. "I never should have worn this dress!"

Helga set her cup down, beginning to shake me. "Listen to yourself, Phoebes. Get a grip!"

"But Helga, I feel naked and every man in here is staring at us." I turned away to wipe a stray tear. "Gerald hates that I look like this, I just know it."

"Good! Let him think of that at night instead of that African princess." Helga snatched up her drink and took a long sip. "Besides, he deserved it."

"But Helga…"

"Not another word!" she snapped, earning spare glances from the few patrons that were in the kitchen with us. She cursed them and made them flee before they had a chance to grab what they came in for. "Phoebe, to hell with that dweeb. He wants to see how life would be with Ariel; well you go and see how life would be with your own prince charming."

Before I could object, Helga had pushed me into the most gorgeous Asian man I have ever seen. I accidentally spilt his cup of punch on his white blazer and immediately began apologizing. I wanted to scold Helga for being such a…bitch but she was already gyrating her hips against Arnold's crotch in the middle of the dance floor before I had that opportunity. The beautiful Asian man insisted it was not a problem and told me I didn't have to help clean him off. I took a few extra napkins from the dispenser atop of the island and began to pat him dry. I began to say something but he took a small step back and slipped on the small puddle of punch that fell from his cup when I had accidentally collided into him. He landed on his back and I landed on top of him. Neither of us spoke. He had the most gorgeous green eyes I have ever laid eyes on; resembling majestic green jade in the forbidden Aztec ruins of Mexico. His hair was cut short, dark as the kiss of night, and spiked up slightly. His skin was smooth, almost flawless as his teeth were the perfect shade of illuminant white. I looked down and saw beneath his stained blazer he wore a black button up with three of the top buttons undone, exposing a white V-neck undershirt, and white khakis. I noticed the single gold chain he wore was snagged in a few strands of my hair. My face felt hot as he leaned in closer, smiling softly.

"Kato."

"P-Phoebe." I managed to mouth out.

"Gerald."

Kato and I looked up and saw an angry and confused Gerald looming over us with his arms folded stuffily across his chest. I silently swore under my breath as I tried to untangle his chain from my hair. I watched as Kato rose to his feet, extending a hand to help me. I brushed off my dress and pulled it down to cover myself and the thong I did not know was showing. Between us, it was an accident. To all other onlookers, including Gerald, it looked like an intimate scene from an Adult movie. Kato tried to extend a hand to Gerald but he was not fazed by pleasantries. Instead, Kato briskly grabbed himself another cup of punch and left the kitchen, but not before stopping in the doorway and gazing.

"It was nice to meet you…Phoebe."

I blushed and nodded, watching him disappear into the party. I tried to look at Gerald but could not muster the strength. Instead I thought of taking Helga's advice and leaving him in my wake. I decided to take a random cup of punch from the countertop and began to walk away. I didn't make it very far before I felt Gerald snatch me up by my waist and carry me up the stairs of Rhonda's estate to the third floor, kicking open the door of a vacant bedroom. Gerald flung me across the bed and locked the door. The cup of punch I had was now sprawled against one of the guestroom- rather expensive looking- comforters that were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I grew irate and started screaming in Japanese before Gerald kissed me. He had pinned me against the bed, pulled up my dress to my waist, and ripped off my thin piece of underwear. I began to kick him and tried to punch him, tears rolling down my face. The kiss deepened and instead of fighting like my mind had told me, my heart allowed me to give in. My punches weakened as my kicking simmered; somehow my arms becoming wrapped around Gerald's neck as he slowly began to trail sweet nips from my neck downward until his kiss was nestled in between the valley of my thighs.

**A/N: I know I said I was not going to update for about a week and that is still holding true; HOWEVER, My laptop has a BADASS virus and seeing as how all my documents will need to be erased by Office Depot in order to save my baby, I am uploading this now so I won't have to rewrite later. Best believe, it this was erased, I would have been as pissed as Gerald watching Phoebe with another man…only in female version. Well, Toodles lovely. Until next week. SN: Send blessings to my computer. She needs it **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The geeks at Office Depot love me and saved sweet baby 'Isabella'. Good news: I am back to update on this rainy Sunday since I have no social life (College does that to you). I love my reviewers. You all make me smile. Sorry for the long wait my kittens. Please do not kick me while I'm down. I have a small cold and this tea I am sipping on is not helping in the least. I am supposed to be studying for my GRE test but I got bored so…this was a wonderful excuse to kill time. Enjoy my dark twisted fantasies. **

**WARNING: Suggestive content is to ensue. Content only gets more suggestive from here on out so reading is at your own risk. If I feel the 'sexy' parts become too intense, I will switch to 'M'; but as of now I feel everything written thus far is suitable for the mature-minded teenager.**

**Gerald**

I stood in front of the mirror for about a half hour, thinking. I was supposed to be getting ready to go downstairs for dinner with our invited guests, the Mason family. My mother felt it was the hospitable thing to do seeing as how Ariel's mother invited us for dinner the other week. My father forced me to dress for the 'occasion' and left me with the option of a shirt and tie with a pair of brown slacks or a full-blown suit. I took the first choice; though I was having a rather difficult time in looping this damned thing they call a tie the correct way so it would stay in place. I did not understand why I was so nervous. Just yesterday I was looking forward to dinner with Ariel and her family and now, I felt nauseous to my stomach. I dropped by Arnold's house this afternoon to give him the full rundown about what happened behind the scenes at Rhonda's party when I disappeared for the rest of the evening. He and I were so caught up, I almost lost track of the time and would have been late for dinner. My mother hated when I waltzed in later than 7:30 for her home-cooked meals; she felt it was disrespectful. With her being born and bred in Birmingham, Alabama, she was an old-fashioned black mother that would lay cow hide to any ounce of flesh she could find. Though I was damn near a full-grown man and a technical 'adult' by state law, I was terrified of my mother when she grew wrathful. Even my father cringed at the thought.

"_Dude, where did you go?"_

"_Upstairs." I took a small gulp from my soda and continued to kick Arnold's ass in Black Ops. Arnold truly did suck at video games. Though he was a decent contender when it came to fighting games such as Tekken or Mavel vs. Capcom, he was a terrible player at the game the actually mattered. It was eight to zip and I was only getting started. I shot Arnold one last time with a grenade before the bottom half of his screen went red. I watched him throw the controller half way across the room, swearing like a sailor as he called me a low-life cheater. I laughed. "C'mon, man. You know I spank you in damn near every game we play. This is nothing new."_

_Arnold flicked his wrist before grabbing himself another cold one from his mini-fridge. I found it funny how Arnold wanted to wait until we were twenty-one to drink the hard stuff but settled for a cold beer to satiate his thirst for alcohol in the meantime. "You are a cheat, Gerald. I am now 100% positive you cheat. You had to have put in some type of code to keep your life bar from going down. I hit you about ten times and it did nothing!"_

"_Because I am the man!" I flexed a little bit, blowing on my guns. Arnold rolled his eyes. _

"_Yeah, okay, 'the man'. If you are such the man, why are you in a love triangle right now, huh?"_

_I eyed Arnold for a bit. Truth was he was right. Ever since Rhonda's party, things have gotten a bit out of hand. Ariel had a family get together that evening so she was unable to attend, but I did make an effort to at least she her for a little bit since I was going to be busy all weekend. I had a double-shift Saturday at the supermarket and Sunday was church and my mother had a thing about doing things on Sunday; she thought they were, again, disrespectful to the Lord 's Day of rest. I went over her house, cuddled with her for a bit, watched the ending to Jaws, and then…got into a little hanky panky. _

_I sighed, falling back onto Arnold's bed. "Dude, I think I am in too deep."_

"_I tried to tell you, Gerald. You are playing a deadly game."_

"_It's not my fault though." I sat up, propping myself on my elbows. "If Phoebe's parents weren't so…so…"_

"_Racist?" Arnold sighed, setting his beer on his night stand. "Look, man. As your best friend I have known you since we were kids. I know it's hard being the odd one out sometimes but the world isn't always going to agree with you."_

"_Arnold, you don't get it; you couldn't get it."_

"_Why?" he raised a single brow, "Because I'm white? Gerald, you forget I have a head shaped like a football and I'm the only kid in our entire neighborhood without parents. You forget I live with a grandmother that is schizophrenic and a grandfather who is suffering from Alzheimer's and sometimes can barely remember my name."_

_I grew quiet. Life had gotten pretty rough for Arnold the past few years. His grandmother was clinically diagnosed with Disorganized Subtype Schizophrenia while his grandfather was going through an early stage of Alzheimer's. Arnold had quit the baseball team to be able to stay at home most afternoons to look after his grandparents and take responsibility as owner of the boarding house. Although Arnold was as optimistic as they come, it was obvious to everyone that he was suffering and going through a lot of emotional turmoil. Frequent doctor's visit to the neighborhood clinic only gave him bad news while the daily life he once knew was turned upside down. The only father figure he knew was slowly forgetting his very existence while his grandmother was becoming not only a danger to herself but to those around her. Several times that state had sent in specialists like Dr. Bliss and her team from the psychiatric institute to convince Arnold as the temporary guardian of his grandmother to sign over the rights of her care to the state. As expected, Arnold turned the down offer but unexpectedly grew angry. That was the only time I had ever seen Arnold use so many curse words in a single sentence and slam a door deliberately in another person's face. _

"_I'm sorry man. I know things have not been easy on you lately, but it is some things even you could not understand, Arnold." There was a small silence before either of us spoke. "I understand you know what it feels like to be the odd-kid-out sometimes because of your deformed head or can relate to going through harsh and critical judgment based on our living situation; but you don't get why it gets to me the way it does when those judgments come based off stereotype or what they see on television."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I love Phoebe, I really do. But, the only reason we are in this mess is because her parent's think I am some type of delinquent that will ruin their daughter based off prejudice. All you hear on the news is some black kid a few miles out getting arrested for possession of a weapon or some type of illegal narcotic or shooting someone in a gang-related situation. People don't expect me to do much with life than dribble a damn ball down a court or become incarcerated by the time I am twenty-one. They would never guess a black kid would have ambitions of law school. Hell, I had a few of our teachers even make some snide, racist comment about how I would only be accepted into college because of affirmative action."_

_Arnold stared at me for a minute before giving me a sympathetic look. Arnold's a smart kid and understood the ugliness of the world we were forced to live in, but never truly understood it happened right in his own backyard. I never expressed how I felt because I thought maybe I was being paranoid or I was being too sensitive, but throughout the years it stirred my soul. I hated being followed in shopping malls while Arnold and I browsed around. I hated getting those suspicious looks from shop owners as I paid for my merchandise in straight cash; knowing good and damn well they thought I was some drug dealer or something. But more than anything, I hated how the very people I grew up with suddenly saw me as a potential criminal. Mr. Green would always pat me down for weapons once I entered his meat shop while Ms. Vietello would insist on checking my bags before and after I left her store. I never told Arnold, or anyone for that matter, because they just couldn't understand._

"_Damn…Gerald, I don't know what to say."_

"_It's cool, man." I shrugged, making light of the situation. One of the many perks about being a minority was that I was built with tough skin. Yeah, the ignorant behavior got to me from time to time and yes, there were moments where I wanted to punch someone's face in, but I let it all go. I was brought up knowing that I was different, unique and that there would be people that would only see me and judge me based off false-representations; not for who I was as a person. "It's life."_

"_I never noticed and for that I apologize. I would have at least said something and if you wanted an all-out brawl, against my better judgment I would have joined in to help."_

_I chuckled, shaking my head. Arnold was really a good friend. I considered him more of a brother than anything. "No need for wrestlemania to happen smack dab in the middle of Hilwood, man." I smiled. "But thanks anyway. I will keep that in mind next time I feel like going to jail for assault charges. I have seen how you can get when you get angry and let me be the first to say, it's not pretty."_

_Arnold laughed heartily, shucking a pillow in my direction. "I still feel bad about it. I thought about apologizing."_

"_Well, maybe you should." I sighed, lying back against the bed again. I closed my eyes and began thinking. "We all have to make amends sooner or later."_

"_Have you talked to Phoebe about any of this?"_

"_Not really. I tend not to bring up the rather large purple elephant in the room when we are having dinner with her folks. The awkward silence is enough for me, thank you."_

"_You have to fix this, Gerald. You can't keep stringing these ladies along." Arnold got up to stretch is legs. "Ariel and Phoebe both have real feelings for you."_

"_I know, I know, man." I silently cursed myself. I felt like jerk of the millennium for what I was doing to these women, especially Phoebe. That girl knew she had my heart, but with her parents and her lack of a backbone, it only began to tear us apart. Ariel was everything I wished Phoebe could become. What I liked most about Ariel was her confidence and sass, Phoebe her intellect and kindness. I had two completely different women who vied for my undying affection and I could not choose one. "I'm a dick."_

"_No, the 'dick' in question should be locked up tight and not messing around with two different women."_

_I flipped Arnold the middle-finger. I haven't had sex with anyone aside from Phoebe since that night at my house a little over a week ago, but I have been fooling around with Ariel a bit. Since I was technically still in a relationship with Phoebe, I did not want to step out on her and go all the way with Ariel. A few times when we were alone in her bedroom I thought about it but settled some hand action or a BJ. I never returned the favor in the second department though; that was a rule of mine- the only one. I decided a long time ago that Phoebe was the first and only girl I would ever do that for. If I was not destined to marry Phoebe Heyerdahl, then I was retiring my expert skills for good. _

"_I don't sleep around, man."_

"_So you didn't get into the horizontal tango with Phoebe when you disappeared at Rhonda's party?"_

_I shook my head no, even though Arnold couldn't see from where he stood. "We didn't have sex."_

"_So…what happened?"_

_I chuckled to myself in memory of seeing Phoebe discombobulated. "Something."_

_I piqued Arnold's interest. "Something like…?"_

"_Something." I repeated, this time sitting up to look at my baffled friend. I looked at my watch and saw it was close to seven and that I had to hurry and rush home before dinner with Ariel's family. "I got to run, man. My mom will maim me if I am late for dinner."_

"_Alright, I'll text you later." He spoke. We did our signature handshake and I grabbed my backpack and car keys. "Your phone back on?"_

"_Yeah, I paid the damn phone company almost $300 to keep it on for four months."_

"_Cool, but don't think you are going to walk out of here until you tell me what you and Phoebe did upstairs."_

_I shook my head and began to head down the stairs of the attic, waving goodbye to the boarders and Arnold's grandmother as she swung upside down from the shower curtain wailing out the Nigerian national anthem. "Let's just say I had grown tired of finger sandwiches and vegetable dip."_

I finally fixed my tie, put on some fresh cologne, and headed downstairs to meet Ariel and her family. Mrs. Mason embraced me in a long, warm hug, Mr. Mason giving me a firm handshake, Ariel's sister, Stephanie, giving me a small peck on the cheek. Timberly and I took their jackets into Jaime-O's bedroom and set them on the bed. Returning to the dining room, I watched everyone exchange small banter and begin to catch up on current events since the last time we all saw each other. My father and Mr. Mason began to talk about Dwight Howard being traded to the Lakers as my mother and Mrs. Mason began talking about politics. Stephanie and Timberly went into the living room to play with Timberly's variety of dolls; leaving me with a bashful looking Ariel standing beside the kitchen. Her mother had baked a pecan pie for dessert and assigned that Ariel be the one to set it out on the kitchen countertop until after dinner. I smiled and joined her.

"Need some help?"

"No, I have this." She turned away from me, unwrapping the baked treat from the aluminum foil and cellophane. She turned the oven on low and put the pie in to warm.

"You ok?" I asked. I noticed something was off about her and it bothered me.

"Yeah, I'm fine." There was an awkward silence. Ariel pushed back a few of her braids and began fiddling with a few shells that hung low from her earrings. She was not as eccentric as usual this evening, wearing only some distressed shorts, lace stocking, brown thigh-high boots, and an off-shoulder "I heart Africa" sweatshirt, but was nonetheless beautiful. "We better go sit down."

I grabbed her wrist as she tried to pass me. "Can we talk?"

"Gerald, dinner is about to start…"

"Please?"

She had to think for a moment before answering. In fear of not wanting my business out in the open to my family, I took Ariel to the backyard for a little privacy. It was a bit cooler than I expected but it was early September and I stood without a jacket. "What is going on?"

"You tell me." She quipped. I was taken aback slightly. "I heard from a friend of mine that she saw you going upstairs with Phoebe Heyerdahl at Rhonda's party. She told me she didn't see you two come down until it was time to go."

"Ariel, listen…" I ran a single hand through my hair and sighed. I knew this would get back to her eventually. The friend she was implying was more than likely Monica Sanders. Monica was Ariel's best friend and openly admitted to utterly disliking me since the breakup. I should have known to expect her there at the party. "Phoebe and I did not have sex."

"But you two did something, right?" she pressed. I sighed.

"Ariel…"

"Answer me!" she roared, placing her hands on her hips as she narrowly eyed me. Though it was Ariel's attitude that drew me towards her the most, it was also one of the things that drove me crazy. "She performed on you, didn't she?"

"No!"

"Vice versa?"

I remained silent, kicking a few leaves that rested below my sneakers. I watched Ariel scream out and begin speaking something in her native tongue of French. "Wow, Gerald. Wow."

"Ariel, listen for a minute…"

"No, you listen." She interrupted, furious. "I cannot believe you!"

"Ariel…"

"Monica warned me about you, you know. Even when you and I were dating she told me you weren't completely over your ex."

"Ariel…"

"She told me how you two have known each other since forever and that you were still in love with her; that you would always be in love with her!"

"Ariel…"

The harsh sting of her manicured hands hitting the side of my face was all I had time to feel before I felt her forcefully try and 'shove' me into the wooden fence that gated my yard from our neighbors. I held my left cheek in pain as I tried to subdue the sudden flood of anger that was causing my blood to boil over. My mother raised me to never hit a lady, but it was times like this where I cursed my chivalry. Contrary to what her outer appearance may have looked like, Ariel was tough as nails and had the right-hook of a professional boxer. "Then you tell me you did _that_ to her at a party!"

"I never said anything!" I barked, thoroughly pissed off. I rubbed my cheek and made a mental note to put an icepack on it later.

"But you didn't deny it either." She shot back, angry as a bat out of hell. She took a step back and calmed herself. "Are you all still dating?"

I sighed and mentally punched myself in the stomach. She asked the one question I hoped she would not have asked. "Ariel…"

"I know my goddamn name, Gerald. I don't need you to keep saying it. Answer the question."

"Yes, alright!? But she agreed to an open relationship so I could explore my options with you!"

She grew silent for a moment, staring. "So, was that supposed to make me feel better because it doesn't."

"I never meant to hurt you, or her. Hell, I don't even know what I am doing anymore to be honest."

"So you two are still an item and you have the nerve to come up in _my_ house and cuddle up in _my_ bed and get frisky with _me_ when you have a whole girlfriend waiting for you?"

I reached out to grab Ariel's hand but she immediately pulled away, angry. I began to lightly tap the back of my head against the wooden boards of the fence in frustration. This night was not going how I had hoped it would. For starters, I was not expecting a scene from 'Waiting to Exhale' to replay in my backyard as my ex slapped the living daylights out of me. I rubbed my temples and took in a few deep breaths. I needed to take control of the situation and fast. "Ariel…"

"No, Gerald, you just shut your-"

"Would you just listen for a second!?" I yelled. I was getting a little irritated with her angry black woman routine. "Look, I am going to be honest. I love you but I also love Phoebe. Phoebe and I have history together that will always make her a part of my life and part of my heart; but you and I have something incredibly special I never want to fade. You are everything I could hope for in a woman and you mean more to me than you could ever fathom."

I watched Ariel tear up a bit before collapsing into my chest. I held her tightly, kissing her. "I love you, Ariel and I want you to know that; but I also love Phoebe and I hate myself for putting you both through this because of my insatiable desires."

"You have to choose Gerald." She sniffled, beginning to dampen my shirt with her hot tears. "I'm no one's fool."

"And you aren't." I spoke as I tilted her chin to look at me. "Just give me time."

"I can only give you a day to think things over and make your decision before I make it for you."

Her ultimatum stunned me, leaving me somewhat speechless for a moment actually. How was I supposed to choose the woman I wanted to spend my life with in twenty-four hours? I could barely make a decision about the college I was going to attend next fall, let alone one that would affect my love life. "Ariel, baby, I need more than a day."

She sniffled again, this time nuzzling deeper into my chest. "You have a day, Gerald. I want all of you or none at all. It hurts my heart to have to share you with another woman; especially knowing the woman is Phoebe. You even do things to her you wouldn't dare do on me. I knew then when you told me that I never fully had your heart."

I sighed, cursing at the stars as they glistened over us. I should have taken Arnold's advice and quit this game I was playing before I was in too deep with myself. I was playing with fire and a few steps away from getting burned. I felt Ariel reach up and hold my face between her soft hands, placing a tender kiss upon my lips. I took it upon myself to deepen it and snake my arms around her waist, grabbing her ass. She moaned and pressed further against me, making the fence creak. My playful hands began to massage her backside as she began to pull at my shirt button. I pulled away and forced myself to take a few steps back from her before I made another decision. Things were getting too steamy and I needed to think with the right head for once. Here was a woman I desperately loved and possibly wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I wanted to make her happy in every way possible. It killed me to know she felt she did not have my entire heart and that she shared it with another woman. It burned me inside to know she was right. Taking one last glance at her, I grabbed her by the hand and took her into my father's tool shed. We began frivolously kissing, knocking a few tools from off the wall and breaking a potter or two, but we did not pay any mind. Grabbing her by the thighs, I lifted her up and placed her on the wooden table set in the middle of my father's work area. She began to undo the buttons of my dress shirt but I stopped her and told her that I just wanted her to enjoy everything. She looked puzzled but allowed me to pull her nearer, spreading her legs eagle as I got in between them to kiss her. She tried to reach for my pant buckle but I stopped her. I whispered one last thing in her ear before I pinned her against the table. I really did love Ariel and it killed me to know she was not fully happy with me. If me breaking my _one_ rule was the only thing that could show her where my heart lay, I was willing to be a man about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Phoebe**

It took some teeth pulling and a lot of begging, but I finally had gotten my parents to allow Gerald to come over for dinner this evening. Gerald had messaged me the day before asking me for a good time we could talk; he said it was highly important. He was very vague and did not venture much into detail but I told him he and I could talk after dinner with my parents. He was very reluctant at first, typing in all capital letters and using an overabundance of exclamation marks, but he finally agreed. I was incredibly nervous yet anxious to see how the night would play out in my favor. My mother had promised me she would keep an open mind while my father had vowed to keep whatever rude, racist thoughts he had to himself. Last time Gerald was over for dinner with my family, the racial slurs were subtle, almost missed but the animosity and tension between my father and Gerald was thick enough suffocate from. My mother being brought up in the south was raised since she was my age to find all minority groups, especially Blacks and Latinos, inferior to the white race. Her father, my grandfather, was a member of the Klu Klux Klan back in the fifties while her mother, my grandmother, was a German immigrant with Aryan ideology. My mother was not as hostile as my father because she knew that though what she was doing was wrong and spiteful, she could not deter from her racially bigoted upbringing during one of the worst eras for civil rights. My father is in immigrant from Kyoto, Japan and the first in his family to leave their village and prosper in America. Before coming to America, my father had not met an African-American in person. He and my grandparents lived in a secluded village with very little interaction with mainstream society. My father was the first to go onto college and deviate from being a village elder like his proceeding male elders. He attended the University of Tokyo and earned both a Bachelors and Master's Degree in engineering. He moved to the states to work as senior consultant for Google and met my mother. Before he came to America, he relied only on the media portrayal of many minorities and concluded based off his observations that African-Americans were undereducated, barbaric, violent, and hypersexual.

I finished curling my hair and placed a Swovorski hair pin at my crown, allowing my locks to flow gracefully to the back of neck. I placed a sheer coat of lip gloss upon my lips and one last layer of mascara against my lashes. I took a few steps back and gazed at myself in my full-length mirror. The black dress I wore especially for tonight hugged my hourglass figure perfectly; pushing up my breasts enough to give a nice view of my cleavage. It was short enough to get a reaction from Gerald but long enough to withhold one from my parents. I wanted to dress especially nice for the evening festivities in the hope of it being the beginning to a fresh start between Gerald and my family. I stepped into my black pumps and took one last look. I was pronounced ready. The doorbell rang shortly after. My heart begun to race and my hands grew sweaty. I placed a peppermint in my mouth before I raced down the stairs to answer the door; yelling to my mother in the den to not get the door. I opened it slowly and revealed a smiling Gerald, holding a bouquet of daisies and baby's breath. He looked incredibly handsome in an all-black suit with a white tie and black dress shirt underneath a satin white vest. His hair was freshly cut and I could tell he took the extra effort to strategically line his facial hair to make himself look even more presentable. He embraced me for a small hug and I got a whiff of his heavenly cologne that was nothing less than intoxicating. I blushed, taking the flowers from him, embracing him in a sensual, passionate kiss. He took a step back, wrapping his arms around my waist. He opened his mouth and allowed my tongue to slowly caress his. He groaned, turning to pin me against the wall of my doorway. I pulled away with lust-ridden eyes meeting his own. I grabbed his hand and led him into my home.

My mother met me in the dining room, forcing a smile. "Hello Gerald."

"Hello Mrs. Heyerdahl." Gerald said, forcing his own smile.

"I see you brought my daughter flowers." She said, pointing to the bouquet in my mind. I blushed. "Very gentleman like of you."

"Thank you."

"I will go put these in fresh water." I interjected, rushing to the kitchen to get a vase. I added fresh water from the faucet and placed the flowers in the middle of the kitchen table. I took a deep breath and rejoined my mother and Gerald in the dining room. I took a seat next to Gerald and smiled at my mother. I looked at the table filled with my mother's homemade cooking, pleased. Instead of sushi for dinner like my father had wanted, my mother made a traditional southern dinner consisting of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, homemade yeast rolls, and chocolate cake. So far, Gerald was making casual, light conversation with my mother and she seemed intrigued. I knew it was hard for her to remain somewhat polite considering her beliefs, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy Gerald's company. She seemed surprised when he informed her of his ambitions of law school after his undergraduate year and how he gave thought into running for political office in the future. My mother shot me an impressed wink and began serving.

"I apologize my husband is late. He and a new colleague were required to stay late for some huge announcement of the sort."

"I understand, Mrs. Heyerdahl."

There was a small silence, me taking the opportunity to excuse myself to retrieve the lemonade I had freshly squeezed for the occasion from the fridge. Gerald loved my homemade lemonade. I was not the best cook, but I was quite the whiz in making beverages. My specialties were my infamous lemonade that Gerald would break his neck over and my iced-tea. I would use limes, grapefruit, and small specs of cinnamon to keep the flavors tangy and flavorful. I heard the front door open and close quickly, loud voices of excitement coming from the foyer, then the den, and into the dining room. I gulped and silently prayed all would fair over well. My father was finally home and judging by the noise, he had invited a few people over. It made my blood boil over but I bit my bottom lip and remained quiet. I specifically told him that tonight was a special night and to not only resist from making a scene but to keep the dinner I planned an intimate family gathering. My father had a thing about inviting his colleagues over from work for dinner and a late night cigar smoke at least a few times a week. If he was not out eating downtown with his friends, he invited them to our home. Even though my mother never expressed this to me, I could see it bothered her because of the decreased amount of personal time she was allowed to spend with him ever since his promotion caused him to work more than double his hours. Though my father was now making much more money than we actually needed, keeping my mother laced in Louis Vuitton and diamonds and me with the latest gadgets, it was rather lonely and my mother often times went to bed alone, weeping.

"You're home finally." My mother got up to hug my father, kissing him on the cheek. She had greeted my father's colleagues and offered to take their coats and place them in the hall closet. I watched my father take his place at the head of the table, eyeing Gerald. He did not speak nor acknowledge his presence but his colleagues were friendly enough to introduce themselves. I stared at one of them intently. It was Kato, the most beautiful Asian man I have ever laid eyes on. He was at Rhonda's party last Friday and was the poor boy Helga had pushed me into, spilling red punch all over his blazer. I blushed at the thought, smiling as he locked eyes with mine. He remembered me.

"Hi, daddy." I spoke gently, placing the lemonade on the table. I rushed over to give him a small kiss before taking my place next to Gerald. I reached below my mother's chiffon table cloth and grabbed his hand. Gerald would never admit it, but he was nervous. "Remember Gerald?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Yes, unfortunately I do. Why is he here…in my house?"

"You said I could invite him for dinner, remember?"

"You're mother said that, I remained quiet."

"Well, mom said it was alright if Gerald came over so I extended an invitation."

My father scoffed. He took out a Cuban cigar from his cigar box resting on the mantle besides the dining room table, lighting it with a lighter he had found in his pocket. He offered everyone a cigar, a few, including Kato, taking one. "I hope you don't mind I invited my guests, dear. I have HUGE news to announce after dinner."

"Really?" my mother reappeared from the foyer, taking her seat and beginning to serve our new guests. I began helping her. "About what my love?"

"Well, it is huge news that will affect both you and Phoebe and I would like to discuss it in private if you do not mind." He drew in a sharp breath. "I don't want certain 'folks' knowing my business."

My mother cleared her throat. "How was your day?" she asked, changing subject. I began to pick at my plate, a sudden migraine hitting me again. I had a bad feeling about this dinner.

"It went well, until I came home."

A few of my father's colleagues caught onto the sudden tension and began making light conversation concerning anything from the upcoming presidential elections to the weird change of fluctuating weather we have been having lately. My father was far from naïve and nowhere close to ignorant. He caught onto the distracting sideline conversation and continued on. "I hope you locked up all of our valuables darling. I don't want anything to mysteriously come up missing by the end of the evening."

"Kyo…" my mother warned, growling. I watched Gerald take in a low breath as he began clenching his fists under the table. He tried so hard not to say anything. "You promised."

"I didn't say anything. I was just asking a question seeing as how we have certain guests of a certain persuasion over this evening."

My father's colleagues grew mute, a few throwing small glances in Gerald's direction with sympathetic, heartfelt looks; others with malice and hatred. I immediately began to regret my decision of inviting Gerald over for dinner. I knew he felt like an elephant seal in a fish tank of carnivorous sharks. I grasped his hand tighter, my breathing increasing in pace. I began to feel that familiar feeling of a panic attack.

"Kyo, I'm sure we can find something else to discuss."

"You're right." He clapped loudly, smiling. "How was your day, darling."

"Great. I helped a few injured children in the ER today. There was a fire earlier this afternoon that left these two siblings with immense blood loss and second-degree burns. They did not have insurance and I was supposed to send them to the state hospital forty-five minutes away but in their condition, they may or may not have would have made it."

My mothered earned a few approved comments from our guests as well a 'job well done' from my father. My mother was a registered nurse at the Hillwood community hospital and was currently considering going back to medical school to earn her M.D. in pediatric oncology. "I 'm proud of you my love; though I would have sent those children to the state funded hospital instead. Too many people expect free, subsidized health care but cannot afford the costs. I am sure those children were either Black or Latino."

More silence. "Kyo…"

"Black and Latinos feel they are owed much more than they are entitled to." My father looked directly at Gerald. "They are lazy, lower-class abominations that need to be put in their place."

"KYO!" My mother shouted. "Enough!"

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Gerald snapped, bolting from his seat in a fit of rage. He slammed his fists against the table, glaring at my father with eyes filled to the brim with hate. "Enough with skating around it. Go ahead, say what the hell you have been trying to say since you got here."

My father stood, matching Gerald's six foot three figure with his own. I began to say something.

"Father, please…"

"I think you and your people are a disgrace. You are not worth the spit under my shoe and certainly not the time my daughter has been giving you. I am tired of filthy savages like you and those damn Mexican immigrants thinking they are owed compensation for the mistreatment that was done unto you. Tough shit kid; you don't like it here in the U.S of A, you are more than welcome to take the next shipment out from the Hillwood boating yard back to Africa on the middle passage. You disgust me. Your people disgust me. You think rapping a lyric or throwing a goddamn football makes you special? Try actually working for your wages and then come talk to me like a civilized human-being."

"KYO!" my mother screamed. She also stood from her chair and called my father into the kitchen for a quick word. My father's guests remained quiet, eating their dinner without looking from their barely touched plates. It was so silent, the sound of a pen falling would be heard ten miles away. The tension in the air grew with such intensity that my mother physically had to pull my father by his ear and lead him into the kitchen. I expected Gerald to be crestfallen, but no, he was livid. I have never seen him look so angry before in my life. I reached out to touch his hand but he pulled away from me like as if I contracted smallpox or the plague. He picked up one of the wine glasses my mother had set on the table and threw it against the wall. My mother's screams could be heard from the kitchen as my father came rushing in, cursing. Gerald threw the F-bomb at my father before he threw another one in my father's direction; the glass missing my father by a millimeter and slamming against the drywall next to him. I stood up to try and calm everything but Gerald was already grabbing his suit jacket to leave. I followed him to the door, trying to talk to him rationally and simmer his temper down but to no avail. Gerald turned around and grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me. He told me to leave him alone as he shoved me into the staircase. I watched him open the door and slam it just as quickly as he opened it. I stood, rubbing my backside in pain as I raced outside.

"Gerald!" I scream out for him. "Please, wait!"

"Phoebe, I said leave me alone." He unlocked his car door and began to get in.

"I'm serious, I want to talk!"

"Talk?" he hissed. I stepped back. "TALK? Now you want to open your goddamn mouth? You were quiet as a church mouse at the dinner table and now you want to talk?"

"Gerald, please…"

"I'm out of here." He slammed the car door shut and put the keys in the ignition. I began tearing up and took it as a last resort to get on top of the hood of Gerald's Honda to prevent him from driving off. My migraine was now pulsating to every inch of my core as my heart pounded away at my ears mercilessly. My palms were intensely sweaty, making it rather difficult for me to latch on without falling under his front tires and my hair was now being tossed around by the cool, angry kiss of night. "Get the hell off my car, Phoebe!"

"Not until you talk to me!" I screamed, the warm rush of heat coming from the engine hitting my legs. "Gerald, please."

Gerald thought I was bluffing when I told him I would not let go until he talked to me because he put his car in gear and began to jerk the vehicle. I almost slid off at one point but I desperately held on for my life. "Gerald!"

I watched him get out the car, fuming and frustrated. He reached for my dress and yanked me from his hood, throwing me on a patch of grass. The tears I tried helplessly to hold back were now streaming down my face in full force as his raging figure loomed over me. I watched him punch the driver's side of his door since he could not hit anything else. "We're done."

"W-what?"

He turned to face me, eyes slit. " .Done."

"Gerald…"

"I have had it with your family not being able to accept me because I am African-American and I had it with you not being woman enough to defend me. I'm your goddamn boyfriend, Phoebe!"

"Gerald…"

"You were dead silent in there and let your father talk mad shit about me, man. But yet you suddenly have a lot to talk about now."

"Gerald!" I screamed, finally standing. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wanted to say something I just didn't know how."

"Open your goddamn mouth, Phoebe!" he roared, grabbing the sweetheart neckline of my dress. He brought me closer to his frame and wrapped a hand around my waist. He leaned forward and brought himself closer to my ear, whispering. "Or can you not function without my balls in your mouth?"

I gasped, shoving him away from me. "That's not fair! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Gerald, but you are being cruel right now!"

"No, what's cruel is setting me up for that with your pops and his Asian entourage."

"I had no idea they would be there."

"Bullshit!" he yelled. "Like, I said I am done. I am done with you, your family, the bigotry, all of it. I have had it and I can't do this anymore."

"Is this about Ariel?" I whispered, not daring to look at him as her name whisked away from my lips. I earned a scoff and a frazzled expression from Gerald. He shook his head, inching towards me in a fit of small, sadistic laughter.

"Funny thing about Ariel is she gave me an ultimatum the other day." He paused, waiting for me to look his way. I met his malevolent gaze with my wretched one, not being able to hold back the flood of tears that coursed down my cheeks. "My mother invited her family over for dinner the other day. Ariel and I talked and she told me she could not go on sharing me with you any longer so I had to make a decision as to who I wanted to be with. I thought long and hard these past few days because initially she gave me only twenty-four hours but I persuaded her into giving me a bit more time. Do you know who I chose, Phoebe?"

I remained silent, more tears beginning to cascade along my face. I knew I looked a mess but I did not care. My heart was beginning to ache as my body began to quiver. I could barely stand, let alone think. I looked at Gerald, reaching out to touch his jacket but he shoved me away. I met that same patch of grass again, this time with a much harder thud. I watched Gerald remove a red, satin box from the inside of his suit jacket, opening it. He revealed a gold promise ring with a pink sapphire encrusted within tiny prongs in the middle. My mouth stood open slightly as shallow breaths escaped into the cool, autumn air. My eyes never left my beloved as he removed the promise ring and gave it a small look over, examining it. He sinfully smiled as he enclosed the ring in his left hand, closing the red box in his right. He threw the empty box at me. "I chose you, Phoebe. I realized the only woman I could truly see myself with for the long haul was you and you alone. I see now I was wrong and that I have to go mend the bond between me and Ariel before it is too late."

"Gerald!" I yelled out, completely shattered. "Please!"

My tears were now clouding my vision, my rickety grasp trying to palm the softness of the ring box that used to be mine. Gerald ignored me, crouching down to meet his face with mine. He gave me a final kiss upon my forehead before telling me that if I was not screaming his name in the bedroom, to not say it again at all. My heart dropped, completely broken as darkness encased everything around me. I watched him get back into his car and drive off into the night. I don't remember how long I sat outside for but I was finally angry. I felt numb and cold inside, almost lifeless as I walked up the steps of my stoop and waltzed into my home. My mother and father were patiently waiting for my arrival as my father's guests retired into the den for drinks. My mother was the first to begin speaking but I told her to shut the hell up. My father tried to say something next but I told him that if he said another word I would be the next person to throw wine glasses. I finally snapped. I had enough of being quiet, being pushed over, and not getting the respect I deserved. I lost the love of my life because my parents were too selfish to set aside their own desires for my own. One night was all I asked for, a chance for them to get to see the real Gerald and not some illusion based off shitty reality television. I knew me loving a Black man would not pan over well with my simple-minded family, but I never thought it would strain the relationship I had with them either. I told them everything. I told them how much I loved Gerald Martin Johanssen, how happy I was with him and not interested in the Asian or White men they attempted to set me up with dozens of times, how much I thought about Gerald, how I wanted to have bi-racial children with the man, how when we made love it was nothing short of magical, how my heart belonged to him, everything. I let my heart open that evening and expressed my undying love for the man that just walked out of my life and into the arms of another woman. My mother began to shed tears, trying to hug me but I pushed her away; running to my room and locking myself in for the duration of the night. My father had tried repeatedly to come in and talk to me but I was not interested in anything he had to say. Because of him, I had lost the love of my life. Because of him, Ariel Mason was now the current girlfriend of Gerald Johanssen. Because of him, my entire world was shattered and faded into darkness. But more importantly, because of him I finally was able to find my voice, but it was already much too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: My Author's Note will be slightly longer than usual but I will be brief. First and foremost, I would like to thank two of my most loyal reviewers: Hanna Cabrodi and Nep2uune. Thank you two for being loyal followers of my story and I am humbly grateful. I have a special surprise for the both of you in the near future so be on the look-out. I do this as a hobby to escape from school, work, and sometimes the perils of life but the reviews I get motivate and give me confidence. I am no review whore…BUT…I admit, it feels just so lovely to see that little orange word 'reviews' behind something you created. Also, thank you to my other reviewers MorganTaylorM3, Chynna, LauraLogan80, and BlackRob88. It feels good to know that something I do as a hobby is perceived well from the public and may actually affect someone's life. I write not only for the pleasure, but for the purpose of making crazed fangirls (and boys) such as myself a little happier with our lives. **

**Lastly, I received a PM from a very angry fifteen year old that attempted to insult me about offending her and degrading her Asian heritage. Once again, I would like to reiterate: DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING I WRITE PERSONAL! This is STRICTLY for creative personal usage only. I am not here to offend nor make light of any situation to which I have discussed thus far. I cannot be racist against black people because I am African-American. *Le gasp*. I cannot be a 'woman hater' because last I checked, I was born with two X chromosomes; not an X and a Y. *Le gasp* Thirdly, I do not HATE Asians because if I did, I would not be engaged to a wonderful Korean man and be expecting our first child. *Double Le Gasp* So please, do not take anything seriously kittens. This is strictly art and it touches on the hard realities of life for some people, including myself. Now that we have this out of the way, enjoy my dark, twisted fantasies. Happy Reading!**

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**Gerald**

Smiling, I raised her slender arms gently; pinning them above her head beyond her dark, brown halo. As much as I adored Ariel's box-braids, when her hair was natural was when I loved it the most. I kept insisting she wear her natural hair and stop getting braided extensions that fell to the crevice of her back, but she was as stubborn as they come. To her, her braids were her identity; a moniker that separated herself from everyone else in the city of Hillwood. She was very much into her African heritage and I admired and respected it without question or debate. It was a tradition within the women of her family to wear braids throughout many months of the year; only taking them down for tri-monthly upkeep, washing, and deep-conditioning. This morning, Ariel had every single last one of her braids undone and allowed her natural hair to flow in thick, wavy S-curls down to the peak her breasts. I placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, pushing her deeper into the tiled wall of my shower. The steam from the scorching water that would beat against my back filled the room as it partially veiled our nudity from the outside of the heated glass windows. I watched Ariel intently as her breathing picked up pace, becoming much more ragged and shallow. She blinked a few times to get some of the stray droplets of water from her lashes, smiling. Her nails would glide against my damp chest, tracing the contours of my muscles as her hands explored the familiar terrain of my body. I would occasionally kiss her neck, biting slightly to mark her as mine below the small kanji tattoo behind her left ear. It always earned me a slight moan that would be muffled by the pulsating water that knocked against the glass doors of the shower. I grabbed a soapy towel and began to caress her, washing her arms, then her chest, her back, then her legs, and then...more intimate of places. She would, in turn, do the same and bring me under the oversized showerhead my father had installed the evening before for a long, over-due rinse.

I turned off the water as it began to grow luke warm. My father would be up in about an hour to take his own shower to get ready for work and hated when Timberly and I used all the hot water. It was a huge pet peeve of his. He would fuss about that and the high costs of electricity every day over his morning bowl of raisin bran and toast with blueberry jam. I gave Ariel one last kiss before I picked her up by her hips and led her back to my bedroom. She wrapped her dripping, wet legs around my waist as her arms enveloped my neck; bringing me in for my own kiss. She was careful to plan our conjoined shower together in the wee hours of the morning before anyone had the chance to wake up. I was still tired and could barely focus until that water had hit me, but it was all well worth the sacrifice of two extra hours of sleep on an early morning Saturday. I had never shared a shower with anyone, let alone became intimate with them in all places, and I would have chosen no one other than Ariel to share my first experience with. Phoebe was always somewhat of a prude and very shy when it came to her sexuality. Ariel was the exact opposite; open-minded, uninhibited, and in control. I kicked open my bedroom door and rested Ariel against my sheets, leaving her momentarily to close and lock the door. She began to giggle lightly as I ran a dry towel against her damp skin, kissing her gently as I fed her the plate of blueberry waffles she had made for me this morning. She prepared homemade blueberry waffles, bacon, sausage, Canadian ham, and scrambled eggs with cheese with freshly squeezed orange juice. She woke me up a little earlier than normal because today was an extra special day: My eighteenth birthday. She had awoken me with the sweet vibrations of her voice as she carefully entered my room holding a tray of breakfast for me. I was still groggy and very tired but I did not mind one bit. Before I was allowed to eat, she had told me she wanted to do something special for me on my special day; leading me to the bathroom for our hour-long…shower. I smiled and placed a sweet kiss on cheek, taking a slice of bacon from the tray next to her. She knew about my undying love for breakfast meats and that was the best part.

"Enjoying your birthday so far, birthday boy?"

"Yes ma'am" I said in between chews. "Thank you again, Ariel."

"No problem. It's your birthday for heaven's sake. I had to be the best girlfriend ever and make it memorable to say the least."

I chuckled, taking another bite of my bacon as I grabbed a forkful of eggs. "You are doing a wonderful job so far and I am excited for what you have in store for later."

"You alright with the costume party right? I figured you wouldn't mind seeing as how your birthday fell on Halloween and all."

I took a sip of my orange juice. "No, I don't mind. I love Halloween. It gives me an excuse to not only be a conceited asshole for a day, but to dress in costume."

"Did you and Arnold pick out your costumes yet?"

"Yeah." I answered simply, digging into more of my plate. I was not very hungry when I woke up almost an hour and a half ago, but now I was practically starving. "He decided to be Jason and I would be Freddy."

Ariel shook her head, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before she removed herself to grab a spare sweatshirt of mine from my drawer. I hungrily gazed at her figure as it slid into my sweatshirt; the fabric hanging loosely from her frame yet hugging her like a thick dress against her wide, voluptuous hips. She enjoyed walking around in my clothing. She enjoyed feeling like she was part of me at all times and I enjoyed watching her. "Well, Freddy, I hope you don't mind that I would be Laura Croft this evening. I figured being a cliché witch or some cat would be played out."

"That's cool." I bit into waffle. "Maybe you and Helga could dress alike. She was talking about dressing as Laura Croft too."

Ariel's expression faltered, her eyes becoming locked to the wooden boards of my bedroom floor. She grew strangely silent as she made her way back to the bed. She snuggled into one of my pillows, smashing her face to muffle a sudden scream. "I hate that woman!"

_Get in line. _

"Why?"

There was small silence. "She hates me because of what happened."

"Oh." I said, taking one last sip of my orange juice before I sat the glass back on the night stand. I let out a low sigh before I stood up myself and sought for a shirt and my basketball shorts. Ever since the breakup with Phoebe a little over a month ago, Helga has been taking out her frustrations against Ariel and myself on the both of us. Arnold would occasionally interfere to stop Helga from getting overly angry but Helga had a vendetta against Ariel and deepened her growing hatred for me. It was not the breakup that necessarily sent Helga off, but more so how I ended it with Phoebe. Word got back to her about how I rough handled Phoebe and said a few things I regretted once they left my lips that evening at her parent's home. Helga came to my house at damn near midnight, banging on my front door screaming vulgarities. Once I opened the door, she punched me right in the center of my nose and screamed at me about how much of a low-life dog I was. I was too busy trying to stop the bleeding to hear anything else she shouted at me until Arnold came up from behind and yanked her back to his car. He came to my aid moments later but I told him to not worry about me and focus on getting his psychotic girlfriend out of my sight before I lost all my manners that night. Since then, Helga has been giving me hell and causing a lot stress to build up between Arnold and I. Arnold was my best-friend but he was also Helga's boyfriend and really was not the type of person to get in the middle of a situation where he would be conflicted. He would try and diffuse the daily arguments that happened between Helga and I but often times would simply walk away to avoid taking sides. I tried to talk to Helga calmly, rationally a few times but she was not trying to hear anything I had to say to her. She was upset how I had been ignoring Phoebe's messages, instant-messages, emails, phone calls, and text-messaging for the past month. Her parents finally allowed her to get a phone and she was able to get my number through Helga from Arnold's contact list. I tried to tell Helga on multiple occasions that I was not ready to talk to Phoebe just yet but instead of hearing my side of the breakup, she would just yell and threaten me with Betsey and the Five Avengers. It was not only getting annoying to hear her mouth every day, but also frustrating. It was bad enough I thought about Phoebe more than I did when we were together and with Helga brining her up every damn day, it made matters worse for my relationship with Ariel.

"Does she hate me that much?"

"Helga?" I asked. She nodded. "Helga hates every one. Don't take anything she says too personal because no one is exempt from her wrath."

Ariel grew quiet, thinking. She sat up Indian style and began to observe me as I dressed. It was getting really cold in my room and with my father being a czar about keeping electricity bills down during the fall and winter seasons, I had to rely on a space heater to heat my entire bedroom. It barely worked and would often times go out on me during the dead of night, but it kept my room cozy on certain days. "What?"

"You…don't regret anything do you?" she asked, looking at the patterned plaid of my dark blue comforter. She began to trace the opening of a small hole I had accidentally ripped one afternoon on laundry day. "With Phoebe, I mean?"

I remained quiet as I switched into a sweater. "I don't regret anything, Ariel. I hate how you keep asking me that whenever you get the least bit insecure."

She frowned, pouting; crossing her arms like a four year old having a tantrum. "I am not insecure, Gerald. I just want to be sure you are sure of your decision since you were Don Juan just a few weeks ago."

I rolled my eyes. I walked over to the space heater sitting atop of my desk and turned up the temperature a bit. It was freezing during the months of October through March in Hillwood and this year it was abnormally cooler than usual. Timberly and I practically begged our father to keep the heat on throughout the house for more than an hour a day, but he refused; saying that if we weren't going to give him the extra cash for the high electric bill that came every month to keep out of his business. The proposition became more alluring each day it grew colder. "Ariel, I love you."

"I know you do, but I also know how you felt towards Phoebe…how you still do." Her voice trailed off. "I am not stupid, Gerald. I know you still love her; you did invest four years of your life with her."

"What's your point?" I snapped. I was getting tired of talking about Phoebe. It was bad enough I had to listen to Helga point out the fact that Phoebe and I was no longer together, but I did not like it when Ariel brought her up either. I made my decision to be with Ariel and it was final. I loved Ariel and though we have our issues, I stand by my decision to be with her and not Phoebe whole-heartedly. "I don't like talking about her."

"Is that why you ignore her calls and texts? I saw she called you several times the other day and left endless messages that went unnoticed."

"You went through my phone?"

"Only because I saw an unfamiliar number light up the damn screen about a million times; I didn't mean to answer it though, I swear."

My eyes widened. "You…answered my phone…and talked to my ex?"

"It was just for a moment!" she defended. "I was going to press 'decline' on the screen but my finger slipped and I answered the call. Please don't be mad."

It was too late for that. For weeks I have been resisting the urge to answer Phoebe's calls or messages. Without fail she would email me every day with a long-winded apology and attempt to call or text me. I figured she would give up after the first few days of me not responding to her messages and sending her to voicemail repeatedly, but she was very persistent and insisted that all she wanted to do was talk to me. Part of me wanted to take her up on the offer to have her buy me coffee and the other just wanted to tell her to get the hint and leave me the hell alone. As much as I tried to tell myself that the evening at Phoebe's did not bother me, it truly did. I have never been blatantly disrespected before, let alone walked away without giving them as much as a good shiner to show for it. It took every ounce of my willpower to not punch Mr. Heyerdahl that night; afraid I would be jumped by his colleagues and start even more of a riot once my father found out. I was so livid that I took my frustrations out of Phoebe and not where they should have been. I felt bad for shoving her and pulling her like I did but I was angry, angrier than I have ever been a day in my life. In my mind, I kept asking myself why couldn't she say anything? Why did Phoebe have to be so quiet and insist on not causing trouble? Why put someone you claim you love more than life itself through that humiliation and torment only to leave them stranded on the bayside?

"Gerald…"

"What did you say to Phoebe?" I asked lowly, interest piqued. I should have figured something was up. For the past four days I did not receive a call, text, or email from Phoebe and did not know whether to be relieved or disheartened. "Well?"

Ariel grew quiet for a bit, beginning to play with a few strands of her damp, brown locks. I asked her again, my voice rising by an octave or two. I didn't realize I was getting frustrated until I saw her look at me with a small glimpse of fear. She began twisting her neck, snapping her fingers as she started yelling but I ignored her 'black woman' moment. I asked her again. "Well, I just asked her to stop calling and messaging you…."

"That's _all_ you said to her?"

"Well…"

"Well…what?" I pressed. Ariel smacked her teeth and stormed out the bedroom, racing downstairs to the kitchen. I briskly followed her and watched as she poured herself some of the coffee she brewed about an hour ago. She remained quiet. "Ariel, you going to tell me what you said on my phone to my ex-girlfriend?"

"Why does it even matter what I said?" she barked, eyes narrowed at me. She took a sip of her coffee, shivering. It was cold as ice in my kitchen. I was definitely going to have to talk to my father about the heating situation. "She stopped calling and messaging you I see."

"That is beside the point, Ariel." I let out a low breath, cursing. I watched her as she raised a single brow studying me. I knew she had a point; why did it matter what she said to Phoebe? Why did I care? Phoebe finally stopped calling and messaging me so why was I not happy? "Ariel…please just tell me what you said to her."

"I told her to stop calling you…" there was another pregnant pause, another long sip of coffee. "Amongst other things."

"Like what?"

"For starters how I don't like her pronouncing her love for her in these long-ass messages she has been sending you for the past few weeks. This is not Shakespeare and I would greatly appreciate it she kept her unrequited love to a minimum."

My mouth parted slightly for that one. It took me a minute or two to fully register all of what she had just said. "You said…what to Phoebe?"

"Why does it matter?" she asked again, this time with more attitude. She slammed her cup of coffee against the wooden breakfast nook. My mother had recently built to make her kitchen look more modern and inviting to her bi-monthly Tupperware guests. It was times like these where I detested having a girlfriend with so much sass and attitude. One thing I _hated _about Ariel was that she could sometimes become the stereotypical black woman. I often times became embarrassed when she and I would go out in public. She had her moments where she could be very classy and lady-like and other times be the round-the-way hood chick my parent's told me to steer away from. Her communication skills were very poor and instead of talking out our problems like mature adults in a serious relationship, she would resort to yelling and vulgarities, snapping her fingers and popping chewing gum in my ear. It was annoying, let alone downright mortifying in public. It was bad enough we were two of the only African-American families in Hillwood; I did not need to fulfill the stereotype of having the ghetto black woman on my arm.

"Ariel…"

"You still have feelings for that girl?"

"Ariel!" I roared, earning a loud shout from my father upstairs to keep the noise down. I took a moment to collect myself and lower my temper. Before I could speak again, there was a soft knock on back door of the kitchen. Ariel and I looked at each other for a moment before I walked over to open it. The kitchen backdoor was the only door that led to the backyard; which was gated by an eight-foot wooden fence. I grabbed a rolling-pin from my mother's baking drawer as I slowly poked it open. A small Asian woman clutching a thin blue jacket, smiling as she held a small white box with a red ribbon at the top stood before me. My heart began to flutter as suppressed emotions began to surface. "Phoebe."

I opened the door, revealing my ex-girlfriend. She wore a thin, light-blue jacket, a pair of jeans, brown ankle boots, and a wool hat. Her aquamarine glasses kept becoming fogged from the early morning breeze. I gave her a small smile, inviting her in. "Hi, Phoebe."

"Hi, Gerald." She spoke softly, almost inaudible. I watched her peek behind me to meet the fuming gaze of a highly pissed off Ariel before she said something under her breath and stormed off upstairs. I sighed. "Um, Phoebe, not that I am not…surprised to say the least to see you…this not exactly the best time…"

"It is fine." She interrupted, sniffling. I could tell by the reddening of her nose and cheeks she was beginning to come down with a cold. "I just came by to drop of your birthday present and say my final…farewell."

"Oh." I dumbly answered, taking the white box with the red ribbon she extended to me. "You really did not have to get me anything; really."

"I wanted to." She replied simply, smiling lightly. She sniffled again before tugging her hat further down to cover her ears. She had her hair down today and over the past month it grew a few inches. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered. "I better go. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

She nodded, turning away. "I heard about your birthday party tonight and I was going to drop your gift off then but I was not too certain if I was invited…"

I gulped, taking a moment to set her gift on the table. Truth was she was not invited. Arnold and I have been planning this party for three weeks now and I allowed Arnold the honor of being official party planner since I was going to be too busy with applying to schools and retaking my ACT to be eligible for early admission. When it came down to sending out the invitation via text-message, Arnold came to me and asked if he should send one to Phoebe. It took me a minute to debate everything but I finally answered with no and told him to invite everyone but her- even Curly and Eugene who crept me out worse than venomous rattlesnakes. I knew Helga tried to talk Arnold into sending her one but Arnold insisted it was out of his hands and not his party. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. "Phoebe, it was nothing personal I just…"

"It's fine." She reassured; pressing a fake smile. I could tell that hearing she was not invited to my party from me personally was not exactly the news she was expecting. "I could not attend anyway; which is why I brought your gift this morning before I left."

"Left?" I asked, concerned. "You are leaving for the holidays or something? It's rather early, isn't it?"

She shook her head, eyes gazing at the dead, autumn leaves that waltzed at her feet with the crisp early-morning October wind. She kicked a few before sniffling again, this time looking at me with glazed eyes. She was fighting tears and I wanted to embrace her in my arms, hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright. One of my weaknesses was seeing a woman cry; especially Phoebe. "No. I am leaving for college."

That took me aback. "Wait, what?"

"These past few weeks, I learned that my father earned another promotion and was now going to be lead software designer for Sony instead of Google. Unfortunately, the job calls for relocating and thus, I accepted Principal Wartz's invitation to graduate early and begin my first year of college in the spring."

"Phoebe…"

"I was already ahead of my classes anyway and seeing as how Helga gave her blessings, I saw no reason to stay behind an extra few months to graduate with the rest of the class."

"Wow." I breathed, stunned. I knew Phoebe was on the accelerated track and had the opportunity to graduate last year if she had wanted but I never imagined the day where she would take that offer and leave Hillwood…Helga…me… "Where will you be attending in the spring? Hillwood University? Harvard? Princeton?"

"Neither." She whispered. "I declined my admission to Harvard seeing as how I won't be in the states after tomorrow."

"T-T-Tommorow?" I stuttered, completely confused. "Where are you relocating to, Phoebe."

"Japan." She said lightly, still not looking at me. "Sony's headquarters are in Minato, Tokyo and my father took the job offer a few weeks ago."

"You are moving to Japan!?" I yelled, completely dumbstruck. I had to take a step back, clutching my chest. This could not be happening. "Wait, what!?"

She sighed, finally looking into my eyes. "I just came by to wish you a happy birthday and to drop by your gift. I know you have wanted a fancy scarf for some time now and I thought with the weather being colder than normal and it being your birthday, you deserved something special to keep you warm during the winter."

"Phoebe…I-I-I…"

"I better go, Gerald." She cut me off. "Oh, and you should fix that loose board that leads from the street. Anyone can slide through and knock on your kitchen door." She winked.

"Phoebe!" I was at a loss for words. I could not think, let alone comprehend anything she said after she said the word 'Tokyo'. Japan was miles away and not exactly a four hour plan ride either. It was half-way across the world and it took damn near five thousand dollars just to purchase the roundtrip airfare and the hotel stay. Before I could say anything else, Phoebe pulled the neck of my Cosby sweater and brought me in for a final kiss. Instinctively, I returned it, deepening it. She pulled away and whispered some Japanese in my ear before running off. I tried calling out for her but she was already sliding through the gap of the loose board she was talking about and jogging towards a parked car. I quickly shut the door, unbeknownst to how cold I really felt. I took a small glance at the gift Phoebe had given me before I lifted the lid, exposing a brand new Burberry scarf. I had been talking about how I wanted one for months and that I was saving up to buy me one so it would go well with the black leather trench coat I had gotten. I reached into the container and lifted the scarf, rubbing my thumb against the smooth cashmere. I began to wrap it around my neck as a small note fell from in-between the folds. I held it up and felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. I suddenly realized that the love of my life was destined to leave for Japan. I was with the wrong woman.

_Aishiteru: It means "I love you" _


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you all for your warm wishes on my engagement and expectant bundle of joy. I gotten a PM or two asking the sex of my baby and I am proud to announce that I will be having a baby girl. Names are still undecided but the fiancée would like her to have a Korean first name but I want an African first name. We'll see how this will pan out. I am excited and very thankful though. A few of you asked if I endured similar instances with my fiancée's family seeing as how he was Asian and I was African-American and truth be told, I have; however, the man I am engaged to loves me beyond the end of time and stood his ground in my defense against his grandparents and his mother. Our families are not exactly a big, happy community but we respect each other for the sake of our relationship and growing family. Now, the moment has come and we are FINALLY at the end of this journey. Some of your questions may be answered, some of them may not. But fret not my dear kittens; I will do my best to tie up any loose ends. Enjoy my twisted, dark fantasies. **

**Phoebe**

"You sure you want to go, Phoebes? I mean, it's not too late to back out from hoping on that airplane and coming back home with me."

I smiled at Helga, giving her a warm, tender hug. She was avoiding all eye-contact with me, finding the airport stadium seating much more appealing and less emotionally provoking than me standing with a few carry-ons. She had her hands nestled deep within her jean pockets as she swung lightly back and forth on the heels of her sneakers, kicking imaginary leaves for good measure. Though Helga would never tell me to my face, I could tell she was fighting back the urge to shed tears. Ever since I told her about my father's promotion, she had been conflicted with her emotions. She genuinely wanted to be happy for me and allow herself to put my desires before her own but she also wanted to be incredibly selfish and tell me not to go. My father told me of the news of his promotion two days after the fiasco with Gerald. He had given me the option of staying in the states to graduate and go onto college in Boston like I had originally planned; moving in with my aunt on my mother's side, Bethany, and her two sons on the uptown of Hillwood if I had chosen to stay behind. I would have to visit during the summers and major holidays but I would be practically living on my own. My father even offered to lease out a small studio for me to have once I started college and would help me pay the rent if I needed the extra finances. I knew leaving Hillwood on such an unexpected notice would be a sudden change and cause a heap of gossip to swirl around the halls of my old high-school, but, surprisingly, I told my father I would be moving to Japan along with my family. It took Helga a few weeks to give me her blessings, but she caved in a week before over coffee, telling me she really wouldn't be my best friend if she held me back from living my life instead of hers. I wasn't expecting something so profound to come from Helga but then again, nothing truly surprised me from her anymore. She was slowly becoming a woman and maturing into a less-abrasive, more loving compassionate person with the selfless thoughts of others before her own-slowly but surely.

I wiped away a stray tear, sniffling. "I would love to go with you Helga, but my flight leaves in twenty-minutes and if I leave now, my father would be rather hurt."

"What about me?" her voice cracked a bit. She cleared her throat. "I mean, who is going to take my notes when I play hooky with Arnold for an all-day make out session, or help me tease princess Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd, or plan the demise of Mrs. Perfect Lila, or- "

I watched Helga stop mid-sentence, biting her lower lip. We remained quiet for some time, careful to avoid interaction with the other, before I heard one of the stewardess call out that my flight was beginning to board. Helga and I watched both my mother and father get up from their seats and call out to me. They both gave Helga their last farewells as my mother embraced Helga a last time for a hug. I could see a few of those tears Helga had tried so hard to hold back begin to trickle down her cheeks, but she wiped them away as quickly as they fell. My mother told me to hurry and not dally. It gave Helga and I five minutes before I was forced to leave. "I'm going to miss you, Phoebes."

"Me too, Helga." I could feel my voice beginning to fade out as everything began to suddenly hit me. I was about to leave my best-friend, my family, my friends, my home, my life in Hillwood all behind to start a new one in a foreign country that may or may not be indefinite. It was uncertain as to how long my family and I would be in Japan but it was for well over a year I knew that much. I was susceptible to change and open to new experiences, but I was not suddenly so certain that this was the one I truly wanted to accept. "You know my father said he would pay for you to visit anytime you felt like."

Helga laughed, lightening the mood. "He better had. I'm going to hold him to that. I may feel like having sushi and them little dumplings with the pork for Christmas dinner instead of the cliché honey ham and Miriam's string bean casserole." She made a disgusted face at the thought. Her mother was not the best cook and often times would produce burnt food or alcohol-laced desserts in fits of panic; which happened more than quite often.

I giggled. "Of course, Helga."

"Don't you forget it, Phoebes."

"Not forgetting." I chirped. Helga and I took one last glance at each other before we huddled in our own last emotional embrace. This time, Helga did not bother wiping away her stray tears and allowed them to fall against the wool of my sweater as I shed my own, not wanting to pull away. "Take care, Helga."

"You too, Phoebes." We finally pulled away at each other, taking a moment to snicker at how much of a mess we looked. I took out a few spare tissues from my purse and handed Helga one, beginning to wipe away some of the running mascara I had trailing down my face. Helga graciously accepted the spare Kleenex. "God, I look like a moron; crying like a little sissy."

"You're not a sissy, Helga." I giggled, "You're just being a normal human-being and reacting to your best friend going away for an extended period of time."

"Don't remind me." She huffed, blowing into her tissue before handing it back to me. I was really going to miss Helga's antics and hearing her loud, aggressive voice in the morning before class. Every day we would go to Dolly's for doughnuts and I would dottily follow behind her, taking notes as she laid out the day's schedule and gave me my assignments. As much as it pained me from time to time with Helga's bossy behavior, I was going to miss her so much. Helga was nowhere close to being perfect, but she was growing and was my best-friend. I neatly folded her used tissue and placed it in a plastic wrapper, making a mental note to wash my hands thoroughly after I sanitized them with immense amounts of alcohol. "Well, you better get on that flight. The white lady with the red-hair has been gawking at us for a few minutes now." she scoffed. "I wouldn't want to break out ol' Betsey."

"You promise to call, text, and video-chat at least every other day? I know the time zones are different but I'll be willing to lose a few hours of sleep if you are."

Helga smiled, pinky-promising. She gave me one last hug before she watched me enter the terminal gate and head down the long corridor that lead to my plane. I had stopped to wave goodbye as I watched her disappear amongst a crowd of people. It took much of my willpower not to start crying again, but I managed to make it to my seat before breaking down. I suddenly began second guessing myself and questioning my decision on leaving. I knew no one in Tokyo and though I was somewhat familiar with the culture and customs of Japan, it was an entirely different thing on actually living there. I took it upon myself to check out a few books from the library and read on the daily life of an average person living in Japan, but I knew once I set foot on their soil I would be forced to make judgments from personal experiences and not from a fifteen year old library book. I was nervous and scared; worried about how I would adjust to life in a new country, make new friends, excel amongst peers within my caliber who vie for the same position I do. I sighed, beginning to look out the window. It was starting to flurry and I watched lazily as small snowflakes danced against the glass, melting almost instantly. I began to think about Gerald. He and I first kissed exactly five years ago to date; standing on his front porch in a similar flurry storm. I remembered I had forgotten to wear a hat that day and did not check the weather forecast to know it was scheduled to snow later that evening. I was dressed in a turquoise dress, sheer, white pantyhose, some kitten heels Helga had stolen from her mother's closet, and a pink pashmina. It began snowing as he and I returned from Slaucen's and my mother was a half hour late in picking me up. Gerald raced in his house and returned with a large, grey wool hat his mother had knitted for him and a matching scarf; wrapping it around my neck as he used his junior-varsity letterman jacket to keep me warm. I thanked him and before I could say much else, he leaned in for the kiss.

I pushed away a small tear as the pilot came onto the intercom and instructed that passengers put on their seatbelts; preparing to take off within the next few minutes. I felt my father place a loving hand on my knee, smiling. I forced a small smile back and took out my music player. Before I could even get comfortable and let my seat back, the pilot had announced a temporary delay due to an unruly passenger that just boarded the plane. I watched my father huff in frustration as he swore under his breath, taking a small sip of his wine provided from one of the waitresses in first-class. Then, I heard my name.

"Phoebe!"

I perked up and turned around, meeting a hoard of TSA security attempting to grab a man. My name was called again, this time much louder over the sounds of Taser guns going off. A few women in coach shrieked out as many of the first-class passengers turned to see what was going on. Then I saw Arnold, being handcuffed by TSA as he yelled out to someone in front of him to run. I watched in awe as a flash of red jump over a few of the seats and over a few officers, my heart beginning to race. Gerald.

"Phoebe!" Gerald called out to me, dashing up to first-class to my seat. He had closed the door that separated my section for all the others and used a small broom as a makeshift lock to keep security out. It was only going to hold for so long. He grasped my hands and kneeled down before me. I tried to say something but he cut me off with a brisk kiss, leaving me stunned and speechless. "Don't go, Phoebe."

It took me a moment to realize he had said something to me before I spoke. I lifted a hand and placed a finger upon my delicate lips, feeling sparks. Though Gerald and I had shared countless of kisses before, this one felt different; it felt right, almost like it was meant to be. "G-Gerald…"

"I'm sorry about Ariel, I'm sorry about the infidelity, I'm sorry about it all. Just don't go, Phoebe." He paused, stroking my hair. I blushed. "I can't do this without you."

I took a small look around as saw that all eyes were glued on me and Gerald, my mother smiling softly as my father, amazingly, did the same. I watched as Gerald reached into his sweatshirt and pulled out a blue, satin box, earning a small gasp from my mother and a few other women. He opened it and revealed a solid gold ring with a heart-shaped diamond nestled within the middle. I was taken aback, clutching my heart as my breathing grew more ragged. From the looks of it, Gerald had spared no expense on the ring. "I used every dollar I had in my checking account and cashed every check I had gotten for my birthday to buy you this from Tiffany's. You deserve the best Phoebe Heyerdahl and I love you."

"Gerald!" I finally breathed, still unable to speak on anything else.

He smiled and placed it on my right ring finger. "It's not an engagement ring but it's a promise ring that leads up to it."

I studied it, marveling at its beauty. I never owned anything from Tiffany's before and the fact that it came from Gerald made it even the more special. I wanted to kiss him and allow him to whisk me into his arms then and there but the harsh banging against the door brought me back to reality; the makeshift 'lock' breaking as TSA began trying to break down the door. "Gerald, are you crazy!?"

"In love, yes." He gripped my hands tighter, bringing himself closer to me. "Please stay in Hillwood, please don't go around the world. I realized I could not live a life without you in it."

"But Ariel-"

"Does not compare to you, Phoebe." He placed another kiss, pulling back to gaze into my eyes. I watched him slowly break down as he knew his time was quickly running out. Arnold served as a distraction long-enough but it was inevitable for him and Gerald to avoid some type of jail time. "Please."

I looked at my mother and father who just kept smiling, leaving the decision entirely up to me. I kept looking back at the ring and at Gerald, flabbergasted. This was the moment any girl would have dreamt of having; a complete scene from the_ Notebook_ or _The_ _Vow_. Here before me, I had the love of my life pledge himself to me and me alone and give me a rather expensive ring that symbolized his eternal commitment to us and our relationship. I fought the urge to cry. "Gerald…."

The bangs on the door grew much louder, TSA beginning to yell out for Gerald to get ready to be detained and prosecuted for 'terrorism' and 'trespassing private property'. I took one last look at Gerald, my heart aching in agony as I removed the ring. I placed it back in his hand end enclosed it with a kiss. As much as I wanted to be with Gerald and start over new, it was best we had some time apart from each other before we could even think about being in a relationship again. I was still heartbroken as to how he had treated me these past few weeks since our breakup and I knew as much as he loved me, he would never be fully accepted into my family with open arms because he was African-American. I watched his mouth slowly part open as small tears cascaded onto my fists. I gave him a final kiss before I whispered that I loved him. It was just not our time yet. As much as it pained him, he accepted my decision; returning my kiss with passion and all the love he had for me in a single swoop. Before I could pull away, TSA had broken into first-class and assaulted Gerald to the ground with full force. I tried to help him but TSA had brought in the SWAT team for extra safety and I was guarded from his arrest by two huge men in all black with shields and batons. They had read him his Miranda rights before handcuffing him and dragging him off the plane to the cheers and delight of a few assholes. I watched diligently from my window as security escorted Gerald and Arnold to a holding facility across the platform, the flurries of snow hitting them softly as gusts of wind moved them back and forth. I saw Gerald turn to me one last time before he was pulled away; my tears not being able to be contained any longer. About ten minutes later, the plane was being geared for takeoff. I clutched onto my arm rests tightly as lights went out. I tried to compose myself but I inevitably failed. My mother tried to console me with a small hug as my father tried to talk to me but I politely nudged them both away, wanting to be alone. I placed my headphones in my ear as I began to grow further and further away from the home and love I once knew. Christina Aguliera's 'You Lost Me' began to course through my ears, the smooth, soulful timbre of her voice bringing my soul to slowly fade away. It was ever so appropriate. Maybe…just maybe…we would meet again.

**A/N: Okay, so I hope no one hates me now. I did not want some cliché, Disney movie ending. This is real life and in real life situations, as a woman, I would have left too. HOWEVER, do not fret my dears because I have a sequel in the works! Yes, yes! Try and contain the excitement but it will be up by next week. Since I am starting my last year as an undergraduate the 27****th****, I will not be updating as frequently. However, I vow for at least one update per week and if I fall behind, do not be afraid to shoot me a PM to get me in gear. Thank you to everyone for reading and I hope you stay tuned for the sequel. Much more turns and twists in store so fasten your seatbelts. You never know what goes in my dark, twisted fantasies. **

**-SensuallyPassionate**


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